#your gifs where my first source of happiness!

[chuluoyi]

HAPPY MARRIAGE

- nanami kento x reader

“you don't deserve to be unhappy. and i don’t want to be unhappy, either.” you have always wondered where did you and kento go wrong. in the wake of your divorce, as you both returned to single lives, you and kento would come to realize what constitutes a happy marriage is... and it takes more than just love

genre/warnings: post-divorce angst, crack, misunderstandings, arguments, hurt/comfort, bestfriend!gojo is going to help your love life, and fluff in the end!

note: this fic... goes through a major change overnight after i was struck with a wholly different plot *sobs* and then i went through a major writing block for at least a week before i know what words i'm going to write :') anyways, this isn't really proofread so please forgive any typos to the anon who requested this and others, i do hope you'll enjoy it! tagging @tiredkitten as per request <3

listen to: today more than yesterday - kim jong kook

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

general masterlist

No divorce ever comes easy.

When couples enter into marriage, they do so with the dream of a lifelong bond filled with love and compassion. You too did once. And even until now, you still want that for yourself.

When you married Nanami Kento three years ago, you thought it was for eternity. He was your dream man, the only man you could see yourself with. He embodied everything that was just and righteous, and he was also kind man, who would always put you first, shielding you from any sort of harm.

Even if the source of that ‘harm’ turned out to be himself.

“You don't deserve to be unhappy. and I don’t want to be unhappy, either.”

Strangely, you didn't resent Kento that much, in the end. At that time, both of you had come to terms with it and you couldn't blame anyone. But now, six months later, as you sat in this shabby bar, downing shots of gin with your thoughts swirling in an alcohol-induced haze, your emotions were all over the place, and moreover, the presence of a certain clown before you was just particularly irksome, and you knew that he was someone you could blame—

“Gojo, you prick!”

Gojo raised one righteous eyebrow. "Who, me? Sorry, but I'm not your ex-husband?"

Gojo Satoru was the witness to several milestone in your life. Insufferable as he was, somehow you clicked with him ever since your early days as a jujutsu sorcerer. You remembered sending him your handpicked wedding invitation, having him celebrating your promotions, and then coming to him with tears running down your face in the middle of the night, telling him, “We are getting a divorce.”

"You!" you snapped, slamming down your glass of gin, whipping your head around to face the blindfolded idiot that was your longtime friend. Your index finger accusingly aimed at him. "This is all your fault!"

"Wha—"

"Because of you!"

"Okay, now it's clear that you're just too far gone—"

You hiccupped, your tone laced with fiery emotion. "If it weren't for you—if you hadn't been so adamant about setting us up back then—!"

Gojo grimaced. Ah, so this was the so-called drunken musings. While it was amusing to see his friend of 7 years in this state, even he couldn't deny how a tad bit pitiful you were.

"...then maybe," you started to deflate, eyes watering and lips trembling, sniffling. "I-I won't have to go through this..."

Correction, you were so pitiful you had no idea. But still, as a longtime associate, he couldn't bring himself to abandon you there, wallowing in your sorrows all alone.

He sighed and patted your back. "There, there... what about I introduce you to other guys, hmm? See if it'll lessen the pain away?"

You shot him a look so hateful despite your bleary vision. "No! Last time you did, it ended in a divorce for me! I refuse to let you turn me into a two-time divorcee!"

"I'm pretty sure your marriage is far from my business, I'm just your kind-hearted, handsome broker—"

"Bah! You— tasteless prick!"

You burped loudly afterwards and Gojo winced, and then you suddenly (and theatrically, he might add) slumped face-down onto the table with a thud, passed out in all your drunken glory.

And Gojo could only stare at you in somewhat disbelief.

. . .

He thought then, that you were definitely going to owe him one after this.

More often than not, throughout the past six months, Nanami also found himself thinking about you too.

Despite his calm exterior, separation with you didn't come easy for him. There was a reason he married you in the first place—he had loved you, and he too wanted it to last. You used to be the reason he went home on time each and everyday, the reason he eagerly anticipated spending his weekends with.

Everything had fallen apart before either of you realized it. Some disagreements suddenly spiraled into lonely nights, no updates during longer missions, your tears, and then ended with both of you filing the papers in the city hall to end it all.

Six months ago, he thought he was final with his decision. He thought it was the best as he was faced with the sight of your tear-streaked face.

“Kento, I’m not asking m-much, am I?” you asked between sobs, wiping your tears harshly. “Aren’t w-we family? Shouldn’t we be doing a lot of things—together?”

Recalling that moment now, it tugged at his heartstrings anew. Yet, despite everything...

“I’m telling you, I know my limits—”

“Is that all you have to say? Don’t you know how sick with worry I am?” you ended up shouting at him, voice quivering. “Put yourself in my shoes and think: how can I possibly sleep at night, constantly fearing that my husband might—” your voice broke, fresh tears flowing freely. “—might not come back?!”

He was the one who backed away first, who made you lose all hope, and ultimately, placed the sentence upon you.

“If you don't have it in you to... then, perhaps it's for the best that we... just get a divorce.”

"Nanami-san, you okay?"

He looked up from the sizzling barbeque grill pan to his junior, Ino Takuma, who looked concerned as he flipped the meat. "You have been staring into space for a while..."

"I'm fine, Ino-kun." He looked down and grabbed the tongs, flipping his side of beef.

Ino let out a sympathetic sigh. "Honestly, lately, you seem down."

Words he was holding back were "ever since your divorce", but Ino was pretty sure his senior understood the implicaton.

Nanami hummed. "Sometimes life just doesn't go as swimmingly... I'm fine."

Ino never really knew you that well and was curious. In fact, he was so very curious. When it comes to Nanami Kento, everything he does and has done is always with justified and sound reason, but he might be biased because the 7:3 sorcerer was his role model.

It might verge on invading his privacy, but—

"They said... Gojo-san was your matchmaker back then?" he went through with the question anyway, testing the waters. "I don't mean to pry, but I just thought it's cute."

To Ino's surprise, Nanami's lips curled into a small smile. "It's fine, Ino-kun. I think it has become common knowledge by now. Yeah... he was."

"For you to have fallen for someone who was Gojo's acquaintance... it speaks volumes about how charming Y/N is."

"Mmm," he nodded slightly as he indulged in the grilled meat. "She is."

"Nanami-san." Okay, Ino was starting to think that he wouldn't be getting his point across if he went the roundabout way. He would shoot it straight then. "I don't mean to patronize you... but if you're really that miserable, then I think you should go back to her and talk things out, no?"

Nanami put down his chopsticks and let out a soft sigh, making Ino to immediately regret his blatant suggestion.

"Before arriving at such a difficult decision, of course we did try to discuss some things," he explained, his gaze meeting his calmly. "I don't take matters like divorce lightly, Ino-kun."

"But still... now—"

To drove the point home, Nanami chose to vocalize the conclusion that still left a bitter taste in his mouth to this day:

"She is unhappy with the way things are, and I have to come to terms with the fact that I can't provide what she needs."

Ino's gaze fell in dejection. "Nanami-san..."

Nanami chuckled fondly. “I appreciate your concern, Ino-kun. Thank you.”

In front of his junior, he could maintain composure and narrated the collapse of his own marriage as if he were a mere spectator. But in his heart of hearts, Nanami Kento wasn’t at all the stoic man he made everyone believed he was—the fact that he had failed to give you the life of happiness he promised on the day he proposed to you still stung him to this day.

It hurt him, but echoing your words, he couldn't subject you to a marriage that felt like a dull cohabitation with little understanding.

“We never really talk anymore, do we...? We never really work on our problems too. Kento, lately, I feel like... things have changed.”

Suppose what he had to do was letting you go now.

It was easier said than done, because when Nanami saw you the next day at the school—this being the first time in several weeks—he almost couldn’t keep his cool.

"Ichiji, don't be too stiff!" you slapped the poor guy in the back with a giggle. "It's just me, it's been a while!"

You didn't look much different than the last he saw you—still the chirpy self he unwittingly fell in love with, staying on top of the latest fashion trends and all. Yet, there was definitely something different about you, something he just couldn't quite identify...

And then those cheerfulness deflated when your gaze met his, eyes widening as you tried to get your bearings. "Oh—h-hi, Kento."

That's too forced. It was so unnatural that made him almost wince.

"Hello." But the tremble in his voice, too, betrayed him. "Have you been well?"

You shifted your gaze away from him, and right before you answered, you let out a cough, and that was when he spotted it: you looked kind of pale.

"I'm fine."

"Oh, that's good then."

Silence. This was the absolute worst.

Nanami exhaled. It was you he was talking to, his ex-wife. He knew you inside out—or at least, he used to. He knew you didn't like this dryness as much as he did. He had to say something.

He braved himself. "Are you here for a mission?"

You looked at him in slight surprise. "Oh... yeah."

Darn it. Another dry reply.

"There... is a cursed totem in North Tokyo," you elaborated, not really looking at him. "Gojo's out from tomorrow until next week. I'm substituting for him to assist the first years."

"Are you sure you're up for that?" Nanami found himself asking before he could stop. "I mean no disrespect, but you look a bit pale."

"I am," you snapped, leaving him surprised. It was as though he had unintentionally struck a nerve, quickly turning your mood sour. "I'm fully capable of handling this, Kento."

"Please, I don't mean to upset you. I'm just..."

Worried about you. Somehow his throat closed in, it didn't really feel right to say that now.

"—I know how rash you can be." He regretted his words as soon as they were out.

It was clearly a bad choice of words as you took offense, your expression quickly turned into one of disdain.

"How rich... that it's coming from you," you scowled.

Memories of your failed marriage flooded your mind's eye. The long nights your ex-husband didn't bother to leave you a message. How he would return home with wounds and blood staining his clothes. And now... he had the nerve to insinuate that you were the reckless one?

"I can take care of myse—"

"That's a whole load of bullshit!"

Good grief. Why must Gojo pick this exact scene to show up?

The blindfold took big strides and halted between the two of you, pointing one finger in your face.

“Last night, she got wasted. Like totally wasted! She could barely walk straight afterwards and then she had the audacity to blame me! Me! For all her mess! Goodness, I’m just a very chivalrous friend and yet—”

"Shut up!" you were horrified, face flushed with embarrassment. "Gojo, you complete jerk!"

Nanami wouldn't admit it, but there was always something between you and Gojo Satoru that made him a bit uncomfortable, even way back when the two of you were still married. Perhaps the closeness, the candidness you shared. He knew you wouldn't harbor anything for someone as elusive as Gojo Satoru, but still, it remained an uncomfortable sight for him.

Like there was nothing pleasant about knowing Gojo Satoru was the one taking care of you in your drunken stupor. You shouldn't have in the first place. If it were him, he wouldn't let you hurt yourself. If he were still the one by your side—

Despite himself, thoughts like that swirled in his mind far often than he would've liked.

Suddenly, the air felt stifling. Nanami didn't like this at all, and even as you two were still harmlessly bickering, he chose to leave.

"Oiii, Nanami!"

He had barely left the room when the person he disliked the most emerged from the door, following closely behind him. Gojo evidently knew what his thoughts were. As irritating as he was, the bloke was smart, he wasn't the strongest for nothing.

"Na-na-mi! You can't just leave like that! We're going to have lunch together—"

"Gojo-san," Nanami stopped in his tracks and let out an exasperated sigh, throwing the white-haired idiot a glare so hard it would curse him if only glares could. "Please stop bothering me."

“How cold-hearted,” the blindfold replied in a mocking scoff. “No matter how, she was once your wife. How could you not care one bit?”

“We have gone on our separate ways, and if she is good with the way things are, then so am I.”

What a lie. He still couldn't help but to care. If you ever needed his help in whatever way even now, he would still move heavens for you.

“And that’s where you’re wrong, Nanami,” Gojo suddenly interjected in a less playful manner. “She is really missing you, you know.”

But you had your best friend by your side, didn't you? Someone perfect, without equal. Surely, you wouldn't need him anymore.

Gojo raised an eyebrow. "How are you so sure that she's good with the way things are?"

"What exactly is she not good with?"

"Everything? You never ask her."

This was getting irritating, and before Nanami really lost control over himself, he finally drew a line.

"Gojo-san, I'm tired of people assuming things about our current relationship," he said, leveling a piercing look at him. "We are both adults. We reached the decision to separate because we both know why. If this is your way of showing concern, then thank you—but I'd prefer if you didn't interfere any further. We're handling this just fine, and by all means, I think people should stop associating us anymore."

With that, he left. Even when he wanted to stay longer with you, even when, in his wildest dreams, he wanted to rebuild everything with you again—

He knew you were there, hearing all of this.

Gojo clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed. "Grr... You're so stubborn..."

. . .

There was a reason why you went to the school. Yaga's sudden request and of course, the chance to see Nanami again.

But when your conversation ended in a bitter note and he walked away, a part of you plunged into instant panic, compelling you to eavesdrop on his conversation with Gojo.

But as expected from you cool ex-husband, he was all rationale and logic.

By all means, I think people should stop associating us anymore.

Nanami would think so, wouldn't he? And he wouldn't be bothered either.

You shouldn't have expected more. This was no television drama in which the couple would get back together that easily. You were living in the harsh reality of jujutsu world, which basically, was the cause of your divorce in the first place.

At one point, you found it all to be exhausting, but upon reflection, it was more painful to acknowledge that he never truly fought to keep you by his side.

Tears welled up in your eyes unbidden, and you walked away quickly, brushing them away.

This is it. There is no use hoping anymore.

If you weren't on missions, then you'd likely be drinking. This had been the undeniable truth over the past few weeks.

Gojo found both you and Nanami to be irritating. The way both of you would evade each other was just plain stupid by this point, since it was clear to anyone with eyes that you were still not over each other.

"Nanami! Why don't you join us for dinner tonight!"

And since you were such an irritable drunk, he chose to keep poking the easier target.

Nanami shot him a scathing look, definitely done. "I have a prior appointment. Goodbye."

"Hoh?! But! They'll have free drinks!"

For the life of him, Nanami just wanted to go back home. He had minus interest in free drinks and even less in Gojo himself, and he would make his points clear.

"For the last time, I'm telling you, I don't want any part in your—"

Ring! Ring! Ring!

"Ooh, wait a minute, Nanamin! I got a call!"

Nanami gritted his teeth in pure annoyance. He truly didn't care about his call and seized the chance to walk away quickly, eager to flee.

Until—

"Hello? Yes. Yes... what? Huh— Y/N is rushed to hospital?"

...and that caused him to halt abruptly. Suddenly, his entire body went rigid, as if he had been doused with a bucket of cold water.

You're hurt?

"I mean why—the hell? Severe bleeding?!" Gojo's voice dramatically rose, seemingly in surprise. "Whoa, uh, traffic accident?!"

Within seconds, everything as he knew it came to an end. He spun around, yanking the phone from Gojo's grasp, indifferent to whether it caught the latter off guard or not.

"Which hospital is this?" he demanded from the person on the other end, his voice rough and harsh. Suddenly, the fog in his mind dissipated, and he was consumed by panic.

"I'm sorry, sir, that's not—oh, it's Tokyo General Hospital—"

"Thank you." Nanami shoved the phone back to Gojo and broke into a sprint, in search of taxi.

At this moment, everything was a plethora of chaos—his surroundings melded into a blur, the constant honking of nearby vehicles echoed in his ears, and the relentless pounding in his chest threatened to overwhelm him. Nothing else held any significance. Nothing, except you.

Why did you get hurt? How did you even get into a traffic accident?

This was maddening. His world was falling apart hard and fast. The beginnings of heartbreak, stirring and churning in the depths of his stomach, once again threatened to drown him whole—

To others it may seem laughable that he was this shaken over an ex-wife, but precisely because you were his ex-wife was why he was running through the streets of Shibuya, opting not to take the cab as the traffic jam was at its peak.

Oh, how Nanami regretted it. He regretted a multitude of things; those long nights, silent treatments, your tears, divorcing you. If he could turn back the time, he'd do anything in his power to prevent that divorce from ever happening. He'd treasure you better, he'd make time for you more—

Because what if, now you were really slipping away from him for good? What if, he would never see you ever again?

Within minutes, he arrived at the said hospital, haggard, spooking the nurses, demanding your room number.

Thank heavens that the visiting hour wasn't over yet. He marched towards the said room, all of his logic and rationale flying out of window as he threw open the door.

And then he saw the pristine bed, IV drip, and you—

Sitting upright on the bed, turning a page of a magazine, your eyes widening and blinking at him in complete confusion—

Huh, what?

The last thing you would expect after waking up in the hospital was your ex-husband barging in unannounced, looking as though he'd just survived a whirlwind.

"Kento...?" you almost squeaked, taken aback at the sight.

His hair was a sweaty mess, his usually immaculate suit was crinkled and his tie was loosened, but it was the look in his eyes that grabbed your attention—as if expecting the worst.

“Are you alright?” he grounded out, approaching you in deliberately slow steps. “How long has it since you woke up?”

“Um... yes? Since about an hour or so.” You frowned. “Kento, what are you doing here?”

“They said you have severe bleeding, involved in an accident—”

“What! No! Did the hospital reach out to you?” you felt a bit uncomfortable at the thought. “I was sure I have removed you from my emergency contacts—”

“Gojo did—”

Suddenly, understanding dawned on him, and he cursed under his breath. “That rotten bastard!”

You blinked, unsure of what he meant at all. To his credit, Nanami didn’t dwell long on his thoughts and faced you once again with another fresh batch of confusion. “Wait, Gojo is your emergency contact? Why?”

“Should anything happen to me and a payment is required to settle it, he can handle the bills first?”

If Nanami didn’t look exasperated before then he sure did now. “Y/N… you…”

He released the deepest sigh imaginable before settling onto the sofa, further tousling his hair and removing his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose.

“Did you know I ran to get here because I thought something bad happened to you?” Nanami stated in a strained voice.

Why did your heart skip a beat? Why was Nanami suddenly playing the part of a concerned husband when the time for it has long passed?

Feeling suddenly irritated, you rolled your eyes. “I just passed out due to high blood pressure. It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” his eyes squared on you, quiet anger behind them. “In what sense does you passing out ever ‘not a big deal’? What have you been doing?”

"Why does that even matter to you still?" you contested. "You were the one who said everyone should stop linking us together by now."

"Y/N, you're missing the—"

"You divorced me!" you screamed, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as the urge to cry threatened to consume you. "You... h-have divorced me, Nanami Kento!"

Nanami felt as if a blade had pierced and twisted his chest at the sight of you—your quivering form, the stifled sobs. He had never wished to see you in such despair again.

"So why!" you finally broke down and sobbed. "Why did you play the caring husband now? Why not before? Why do you keep toying with my feelings...?"

"I'm not." Nanami grunted, getting up and approaching your bed. "I never meant to. That was never my intention. I never—"

"Then what!? What are you doing? Why did you throw me out just like that and why now—"

"Believe me when I said that I never want you to be miserable!"

You halted mid-rant, eyes wide as you gazed at him. Blinking, you felt a tear roll down your cheek. It was the first time Nanami had ever raised his voice at you. Even in the past, he never had.

But suddenly, a sharp pain pierced through your abdomen, causing you to instinctively clutch it. You whimpered, a nearly involuntary squeak escaping you, feeling the intense burn inside.

Nanami immediately got a hold of your hunched form, alarmed. "What is it? What hurts?" When all you could manage were pained sniffles in response, he swiftly hit the nurses' button and enveloped you in his embrace.

"Hold on," he comforted, placing a hand over where you clutched your abdomen, trying to offer some relief in any way. "They'll be here soon, don't pass out!"

"Mmngh," you gripped his hand in response, squeezing it as you slumped into his chest. For the first time in six months, you were enveloped in his warmth once again, and despite everything that had transpired, you were deeply moved by his gesture.

It took seeing you in such distress to dispel any doubts Nanami may have had. You were so petite against him, so delicate as you squirmed amidst your tears.

Had you experienced pain like this in the past six months? The thought made his heart lurch. Did no one comfort you at all?

. . .

And that was when he decided it.

He never, ever wants to see you in any sort of pain, ever again. And should it happen, then he'll be the one staying by your side, just like this.

Alcoholic gastritis. You consumed so much alcohol that it irritated your ulcer and causes a really painful tummy ache.

You could feel Nanami's judging gaze on you as your attending doctor explained your predicament. Truth to be told, you were quite ashamed. Your unhealthy lifestyle were laid bare before your ex-husband and it made you feel like a kid being scolded for misbehaving.

After the doctor left, Nanami sighed and pulled out a chair next to your bed. "Are you feeling better now?"

"Yeah..." you mumbled, avoiding his eyes. "Sorry, that... you have to see that."

But thankfully, he was unflappable as ever. "Nothing to be sorry about. It's fine."

You were kind of embarrassed of your outburst earlier too. While you didn't regret expressing your feelings, you pondered if could've done it in a less confrontational way.

At this point, you'd accept anything. Even if Nanami told you off after this—

"Let me continue from what I was saying earlier," he suddenly began, catching your attention. You perked up, and looked at him expectantly.

Nanami released a deep sigh, and the words he spoke next were ones you never thought you'd hear from him again.

"Did you remember what I said when I proposed our divorce?" he asked, somewhat rhetorically. You wordlessly nodded, because it was one of the lines that made you unable to hate him completely.

"I said, you don't deserve to be unhappy." Nanami looked you right in the eyes, undaunted. "And that still stands until now."

Now fully engrossed in his words, the rhythm of your heart intensified, echoing in your chest.

"It wasn't a decision I blurted out lightly. I know you're hurt, because I am too. I married you with a reason. I have loved you. and if you were to ask me now, my answer would be the same—I am still in love with you."

Why did it feel like your vision was beginning to blur once more?

"But," Nanami's face contorted into a frown, gazing hard at you. "If staying with me is what makes you miserable—if waiting nights after nights, hoping I can make it each time haunts you so much—then I'm more than willing to release you from that burden. I don't want to subject you to that life."

Warm tears slid down your cheeks. Sniffling, you averted your gaze, looking downwards.

"Look, I make you cry again," he sighed, a mix of fondness and sadness in his voice, as a bitter smile graced his lips. One of his thumbs gently lifted your jaw, while the other tenderly wiped away your tears.

"Kento, I—" you quickly looked up, swallowing the lump in your throat. You had made up your mind. "I don't want you to leav—"

"I know," he cut in, his voice solemn, as he stroked your tear-streaked cheeks. "I know, and that's exactly why I'm going to say what I'm about to say next."

And with his next words, your heart burst into complete, utter warmth—

"Let's start over." Nanami Kento's voice was your lifeline, anchoring you and keeping you afloat. "We can take our time. There's no rush—we can return to how things were in the beginning. And when you're ready, then and only then... will I ask you to marry me again."

The one person who has your heart in his grasp, someone whom you are willing to care way more than yourself... You were openly sobbing now and yet a radiant smile broke through your tears.

There was only one answer you had in mind.

Five years later

"Yes! Yes! Yay!"

Today was sunny, just like the day of your wedding. Memories flooded back as you glanced at the grand wedding portrait in the foyer, a snapshot of yourself and your husband in blissful celebration.

A smile tugged at your lips as you stared at the gentle smile on Kento's face amidst his typically stiff posture. You remembered his vows to you.

The one person who I will look for the rest of my life... is you. I have never met someone so important and precious to me that it hurts.

The sound of a car pulling up snapped you out of your reverie. Oh, he's home.

As you opened the door, your smile grew even broader, until a small figure darted past you at such speed that you were left gawking.

"Daddy!" your daughter's voice rang out with pure delight, leaping into your husband's arms the moment he swung the car door open, catching him off guard.

"Oh my, why are you so sweaty?" Kento inquired, scrutinizing your daughter with a puzzled frown, yet holding her close. "I thought we're going to the playground after this?"

"She's so excited for it that she keeps running and jumping around all the while," you chimed in with a gentle sigh, affectionately ruffling your daughter's hair as she beamed up at both of you.

Before long, the three of you set off to the playground, fulfilling the promise you had made to your daughter. As she entertained herself with the slides, Kento's low chuckle drew your attention. "What's so funny?"

"She takes after you a lot, you know," he remarked, a fond smile on his face. "The way she is just full of energy."

"Really? But sometimes she'll get this wrinkly little scowl on her face when she's annoyed—she looks like you then."

"Wrinkly...? No, surely I don't have that many wrinkles yet..."

Your laughter filled the air, a testament to the joy found in these simple, everyday moments.

Unexpected moments of joy, the comfort of family, and a love that had grown and evolved, stronger and more resilient with time...

And this, is what you'd call a happy marriage.

[writersmess]

DEATH WISH LOVE | EVAN BUCKLEY

gif credit

Pairing: Evan Buckley x fem!reader

Summary: Buck never thought he could love someone like that. Especially not someone with the same death wish love as him.

Warning: Anxiety crisis, near-death experience, hospital, crying, ansgt.

Word count: 2.5K

a/n: My God, I can't believe it's taken me over a year to get back. I missed this place so much. It's been an intense, crazy year. I finally got my dream job at the best hospital in Latin America. I'm so happy, but at the same time it's demanded everything of me, working long shifts almost every day, but its the price I have to pay. I hope you like this one, it was based on the song Death Wish Love by Benson Boone, which as soon as I heard it I immediately imagined something with our dear Buck. I confess I thought I'd do something angsty, but I don't think I have that capacity, he already suffers so much that I just wanted him to have a happy ending this time.

Masterlist

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You were the new firefighter in 118, and also new to the city. In order to follow your dreams, you left your hometown with everyone and everything you knew. You craved for bigger things, you wanted the big city, you wanted Los Angeles.

The team welcomed you with open arms, which was unusual to you. You weren’t used to this or neither known by your affectionate gestures, but apparently everything was an excuse for a hug at the station. It was a bit hard to get used to all this affection, especially when you came from a place where you were always by yourself.

That was one of the main reasons you became a firefighter, you have walked through fire every single day of your life, why not make it your profession?

You were a source of curiosity between the team, always so quiet and so resistant to everyone's affection. It was hard to win you over. Especially because you had a rather difficult personality, you were fearless at work, you weren't afraid to go into the fire to save lives, you did it without thinking twice.

To Bobby you were a cause of concern, and sometimes the reason why he was having trouble sleeping. He knew this personality very well. It was the same one he had struggled for years to learn to deal with, the one he had to fight with so many times, he was very familiar with this death wish love, it was the same as Buck’s.

The blue-eyed man on the other side, couldn't understand why he couldn't take his eyes off you. Ever since you arrived a few months ago, your image has been running through Buck’s mind. You've become a challenge for him. But not in a bad way, he wanted to get to know you, he wanted to understand you. But you didn't make things any easier for him, especially when today was the first time he'd seen you laugh.

"You're drooling" he snapped back to reality when he heard Eddie mocking next to him.

"Shut up" Buck said, turning his gaze back to you playing with his niece.

You had a beauty he couldn't explain, an angelic one. You had this steely gaze and looking at you felt like suicide. He would fall to his knees if you asked him to. How could someone so delicate also be so dangerous?

The way you were reluctant to follow Bobby's orders, you'd walk into the fire without a second thought. You would take risks without thinking about your own safety, just thinking about everyone else. He saw how hard you worked, he saw how mad Bobby got when he ordered the building to be evacuated and you were always the last one to leave. You were intriguing and he was fascinated.

It was so strange for you. Being in Maddie's living room, with everyone gathered together like a big family, laughing and telling funny stories. The team met once a week, with all the families together, the children running around the living room, the smell of food in the air, the voices, the laughter.

You accepted the invitation after a few months of refusing, and now you spent the week looking forward to the moment when you would be together again.

Sometimes when you got home from a meeting, you cried. You cried because you never had that, you never had anyone who cared about you. You were an unexpected pregnancy, your parents didn't planned you, they didn't want you and that was never a secret to anyone.

And that's why you were surprised when one day you arrived early at the station and Hen had a cake for you that you had once said reminded of what your grandmother used to bake.

Or when another one Eddie handed you a drawing that Chris made specifically for you. Of the two of you playing together.

Or when Maddie sent you, through Chim, the cookies you said you loved one day while you were having coffee together.

Or when Bobby invited you to have lunch with him and Athena on a Sunday ‘cause he knew you were going to do it alone.

Or when Buck gave you a book he'd heard you say was your favorite during a conversation.

*

It was mid-afternoon on a Sunday. Your hands were shaking, your heart pounding. The words your father had once spoken echoed in your mind. "You will never be loved". But you were at a table with 118's entire family, and you felt loved. Maddie told you about the gossip from her work. Karen hugged you from the side every time you passed by her. Hen included you in every conversation. Athena calmly answered all the questions you were curious about her work. So why did you feel like an imposter? Why was your father's voice echoing inside your head? Why were you on the verge of an anxiety attack?

"I'll be right back" you muttered to the girls, but you realized how shaky your voice sounded. You were pathetic.

You barely made it to the bathroom, your legs buckled and you sat down in the corner of the room. You could hardly breathe, it was hard to pull in the air. Tears streamed down your face. Your heart was racing. Your hands were shaking.

You heard your voice being called from outside. Damn. You couldn't calm down, your hand was on your chest as if it could make the pain go away.

"Hey, hey. I'm here. Calm down, I’ve got you" it was Buck.

His voice was just a whisper in your ear. You let a sob escape your lips. Pathetic. You felt his arms around you, until you were all wrapped up in his arms. Why was he doing that? Why did he care?

He stayed there until you stopped crying. You were still in his arms, and it was so warm, so safe. Sighs came from your lips, and you couldn't imagine what a mess Buck's head and heart were in. He wanted you in his arms, not just now.

"I'm sorry," you whispered and tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let you, so you stayed.

"You don't have to talk about what's going on in there, but the day you feel like you need a hug to cry into, you've got mine" your eyes filled with tears again. "And don't ever apologize for it"

*

The smiles on your lips were becoming constant. And it was Buck's favorite image. You were letting people through your armor, you were letting your guard down, and it felt good. You now baked pies and cakes for the station on your days off, recipes learned from the girls after a few long afternoons of chatting and coffee.

Your laughter was contagious, and the boys would always crack little jokes to get them out of you.

Your eyes were now looking out for a pair of blue ones, all the time, everywhere. Eyes that were always looking back at you. Your hands were always looking for an excuse to bump into Buck's, just to feel that shiver run down your spine every time. And he would find any reason to text you, until the excuses became routine. You woke up every day with a good morning message and went to bed with a good night one. The little touches now became big gestures, Buck loved to brush your hair out of your face and tuck them behind your ear. And you loved to run your hand over the birthmark above his eye. You loved when his warm lips traveled up your neck to your lips. You loved when his hands ran over your body always so slowly and so gently, bringing goosebumps wherever they went. You loved making love with him. How he worshiped your body, how much he worshiped you. The way he made you feel loved.

You had a hold on Buck, and you didn't even know it. He had become attached to you, attached to the idea of having you by his side. The nights with you were the ones he could truly rest in, the mornings where he woke up to your soft kisses on his face, were the ones he would keep forever in his mind.

But he could feel that you were still resisting his feelings, and he was terrified of losing you. Buck was in love with you. It took months for him to realize that, but he did it. He loved you.

But one thing has never changed. And as Buck followed the loud murmurs coming from Bobby’s office, where he knew you were at, he kept in mind the danger you were in at every call. He couldn't lose you.

"Hey, what happe-" he couldn't finish the sentence when he saw you walking out the door, since you brushed past him, bumping into his shoulder, without even looking him in the face.

Buck made his way to the room, where he saw his captain wiping his hands across his face, letting out an exhausted sigh.

"She'll end up dead if she keep acting like this, Buck"

"I know"

"After the last call, if she doesn't change her behavior, I'll be forced to suspend her."

"I know."

Buck couldn't lose you.

You couldn't talk to Buck yet, you were so nervous after your conversation with Bobby. You were trying your best, how could he tell you that you had a death wish love? You were saving lives, and it didn't matter if it cost you your own. You didn't care.

A new call ecoed through the station. It was something big. A fire in a shed. People were working at the time, so there were many likely victims. You were anxious, just as you were before any call, but you were ready for it. You were born ready.

"Be careful," Buck told you before you got off the truck and you nodded. You were always careful "I love you"

You turned surprised to Buck, you'd never said that to each other before. It disconcerted you.

"Buck, I-"

Before you could say anything, you heard Bobby calling you to give instructions and you had to run.

I love you.

The words echoed in your head as you entered the burning building. No one had ever said that to you. You didn't even know the weight those words carried.

"Sir, follow this path and the fireman will take you to the exit."

It was so hot. You'd already lost count of how many people you'd pulled out of the line of fire. Your head was heavy. It was getting hard to breathe.

"Evacuate the building now," you could hear Cap saying over the radio. Everyone agreed and gave their location. You were about to respond when you heard something.

It was a call for help.

You could have sworn it was a call for help.

"Captain, I'm in the east side, I hear someone screaming for help. I'm close, I can get them out"

"Negative, the building will collapse at any moment. Get out immediately"

Your vision was blurred.

I love you.

You couldn't go out and leave those people to die, so you went ahead. The way to the door was difficult, there was a lot of rubble, and when you opened it, you froze in place.

It was empty. The fire danced in front of you, mocking you. But the cries for help... you've never been so wrong before.

I love you.

“It’s empty” you murmured at the radio.

Bobby was shouting your name from the other end of the radio. You turned around, but it was so hard to breathe. You tried to find your way back, but everything was spinning. Buck was now calling your name.

I love you.

His words were running through your head. Your steps were now slow. The way out, you couldn't find the way out. You could hear the fire laughing at you. Stupid. Pathetic. You heard an explosion behind you, and it threw you off balance, bringing you to the ground. You'd been walking through fire all your life, and now it would finally take its place back. Your siren buzzed in your ears. That would be the end of you.

I love you too, Buck.

The moment Buck came out of the building and didn't see you outside, he tried to go back. But hands held him in place.

This couldn't be happening. No, no.

Bobby called your name on the radio and you didn't answer. It's empty. That was the last answer they got. You weren't answering. An explosion. On the east side, where you were.

Buck's knees gave way, and he went down. All eyes were on the exit of the building waiting for you, waiting for a miracle. But it never came.

Buck screamed, and he would scream until his lungs gave up.

Time seemed to stop. Buck's screams were the only noise to be heard. And another explosion. Tears rolled down trough some faces. No one could believe it. This couldn't be happening.

Buck couldn't lose you like this.

"We found her" some voice echoed over the radio.

Buck's heart could stop any second now.

But the building was collapsing.

He broke free from his friends and ran into the building, dodging all the fallen and burnt obstacles, and he saw you. You were in the arms of a fireman. He ran up to you and carried you out of the building. As soon as you stepped onto the sidewalk, the building collapsed. Buck held you in his arms with all his strength and ran, feeling the debris fly past you.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry" was the first thing that came out of your lips when he put you on the stretcher and he shut you up, pressing his lips to yours.

Buck analyzed each of your wounds alongside Hen and Chim and you could see the tears streaming down Buck's face, the ones that were also streaming down your own.

You were still struggling to breathe, every inch of your body ached, and you felt on the verge of losing consciousness. Until you succumbed to the darkness that was calling your name.

*

You woke up a few hours later in hospital. Your hands were being squeezed and you could feel something wet running down over them. Tears.

Buck had his face in your hands, he had never felt so afraid before. And when he heard your voice calling him, it was as if he could finally breathe.

"I'm sorry, Buck, I-I don't know what happened-"

"I almost lost you today"

Your heart broke into a million pieces. You did this to him, your recklessness, your impulsive behavior. It was your fault.

"I'm sorry"

Tears were now streaming down your face and he moved closer, running his hands gently down your cheeks.

"I was terrified of losing you. I'd die if I do."

"I would never leave you"

"Promise?"

"I love you, Buck. And I'll love you to death"

"Please don't let it be soon"

You smiled. No one had ever loved you like that.

"It won't."

[elihermit]

Can you do a buck x reader where the reader and buck are married but she gets amnesia and only doesn't remember buck and their relationship. But it ends with fluff

where’s my mind?

pairing: Evan “Buck” Buckley x fem!reader

summary: you wake up in a hospital bed surrounded by your family and friends, but amnesia took away the memory of your husband, what’s Buck gonna do?

word count: 2,1k

author’s note: thanks to an anon for this request, I hope you all enjoy it, because I definitely had fun writing it 🫧 p.s. requests are open

“Yes baby, I will be home in 10 minutes, just had to stop at a gas station otherwise I wouldn’t make it.” — you say over the phone and sigh. Your day was long enough, of course it couldn’t end well, something had to make it a bit longer.

“Okay love, be safe.” — you hear Buck’s voice and smile. Who would have thought that after four years of dating – you can finally call this man your husband? The past three months of being married were so wonderful, you had everything you dreamed of. “I love you.”

“I love you too, see you soon!” — you smiled again and hung up the phone.

Well, this gas station definitely looks a bit shady, but it was the only one near and you really needed to get some gas.

It was 11 p.m., streets are getting emptier, and flashlights are the only source of seeing something in this darkness. You felt shivers down your spine and thought that it’s time to go home, you didn’t like this place.

Your hand reaches for the car door to get into the driver's seat. But this never happens. Instead, you feel a blow to your head so hard that the only thing you remember is falling to the ground and darkness. If someone got a reward for the most unfortunate end of the day, you would get it today.

Next thing you know, you wake up in a hospital and you try to properly open your eyes, but the light in the hospital is so bright that you squint for the first few minutes. You feel someone is sitting next to you and you turn your head in their direction. It was Maddie.

“Maddie? W-what happened?” — you finally speak and don’t recognize your voice. The voice is so hoarse, quiet and low.

“Oh (Y/N), you’re finally awake.” — Maddie said with a smile. “Don’t worry, you’re fine now, you got attacked at a gas station and had a concussion.” — she took your hand and squeezed it. “I’m gonna tell Buck you’re awake, he just left to buy some coffee. He will be so happy.” — one more smile from her and she left your room.

“Buck? Who’s that?” — you think to yourself and get confused. “Maybe it’s a doctor or something.”

A man runs into your room with a relieved look on his face. You assumed it was Buck. But you really can’t remember his face. Maybe it’s Maddie’s friend or a doctor she knows, she's a former nurse after all.

“Hi baby, I’m so glad you’re awake.” — he rushed to sit next to your bed, took your hand in his and placed a gentle kiss on it. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but do I know you? I can’t remember if I ever saw you.” — the confusion is written on your face, you furrowed your brows and looked at him.

But Buck just laughed and smiled at you. You always liked to call him “sir” to tease him. He had no idea why you did that, but he secretly liked it, it made you look cocky.

“I don’t know why you’re laughing, but I’m getting quite uncomfortable by my hand being kissed by a stranger. You better explain.” — you said that and pulled your hand out of his. Why does he think that he has some privilege to do that?

Then Buck realized. You don’t remember him. He felt like his world fell apart in one second. Everything they had been building for almost 5 years just disappeared. Your eyes were saying everything. There’s no love, affection and fondness in them. You didn’t look at him like he was the most important person in your life anymore.

“Maddie, can you explain? This man seems too stunned to speak.” — you said annoyingly, because no one gives any answers.

“(Y/N), I’m Buck, your husband.” — he said with so much pain that for a moment you thought that it’s you who’s acting stupid.

You couldn't lose your memory like that, could you? You remember everyone except your husband. Oh god, you're married, you probably have a house together, lots of plans for the future, but you don't remember anything.

Your head starts to hurt a lot from all the information that doesn't seem real. You look at Maddie and you see that tears are starting to form in her eyes. You see Hen standing outside the door of the room and talking to the doctor. The saddest look you've ever seen is on her face. Everyone remembers everything, why can't you remember?

The doctor comes into your room and gives you a little smile. This smile didn’t say "it's good that you woke up", this smile said "hang on, you have a lot of surprises ahead."

“So, Mr. and Mrs. Buckley, I have some news that I need to share. (Y/N) experienced a severe blow to the head, which led to dissociative amnesia, due to which she may forget something or someone specific in her life.” — so it’s true, you did forget your husband. How long have you two been together? How many good memories did you forget?

“What can we do?” — Buck said, pursing his lips. He took your hand again and squeezed it. This news shocked him, he wasn't ready for it, but he knows for sure that he is ready to do everything in his power to make you remember him.

“The best thing you can all do is put her in the environment where she has been for the last 5 years. Guide her slowly and carefully tell her the events she has forgotten. Memories can come in flashes and this is normal, it means that she remembers and after a while she will remember everything. But I must warn you that there is a chance that she will not remember anything.” — the doctor said and gave Buck a soft look. Unfortunately, he has to deal with many cases of amnesia and the hardest thing is to see the patient's family and know that they don't have the slightest idea what to do next. “Now, if you excuse me, I need to check on another patient.”

There is a chance that she will not remember anything. These words ring in Buck's head. What if she really doesn't remember anything? Would he have to win her love all over again? Would he have to propose to her again? Will they have to build everything again for another 5 years?

2 months later

The door opens. You came back from grocery shopping. Apparently, this is the house that you and Buck moved into after your wedding. Home sweet home, only you don't feel at home. You remember that you lived alone, there wasn't even a man on the horizon that you liked, turns out you're already married.

Buck is very sweet, he hasn't left your side for a second since you woke up. He showed you pictures of you together. Here you are at Bobby's birthday party, here you saw Jee for the first time, here you are at Chim and Maddie’s hospital wedding, here you are spending a free day at the beach. And you could remember those events, but you don't remember living them with Buck.

Yesterday Buck told you that you were supposed to fly to Europe together for the first time in 2 weeks. It's been your dream all your life and Buck was happy to make it a reality. He was happy to share memories with you that would keep you both warm in the future. But the trip will have to be canceled, because he doesn't want to overwhelm you.

“I know it’s a lot and you probably want to run away, but listen, I’m here if you need me. I know you don’t remember me, but I remember everything and my love will be enough for both of us for now.” — Buck put the bags on the floor and came over to you. He stopped in front of you and didn't know how to behave. He wanted to kiss you, but would it be too much? He wanted to hug you, but wouldn't that scare you off?

Seeing how he hesitated, you hugged him yourself. You hugged him to you as hard as you could. The thing is, you were very scared. But Buck instilled a sense of security, he was your safe place. You didn't remember him, but your body remembered exactly how to react to him. And you trusted that instinct.

So far, you have agreed to sleep in separate bedrooms. You didn't want to rush things, and he didn't want to push you. So when night fell, you said goodnight to each other and went to your rooms.

You lay down on the bed and put your head on the pillow, it smelled like Buck. His cologne, his shower gel, the whole room seemed to be filled with him. You looked at the bedside table and saw a photo of you together. So happy and beautiful, in the photo you were somewhere in the park.

“I promise I will remember you. For us.” — you said quietly to yourself and fell asleep.

It was a beautiful sunny day. You look at yourself in the mirror and you're wearing an amazing wedding dress. Your hair, makeup, jewelry — all this made you feel like a princess.

“Athena, I’m so nervous, I don't think I will remember my vows.” — you turned around to Athena while she was preparing your veil.

“(Y/N), you and Buck have been preparing for this wedding for six months, if something goes wrong, it will definitely be Chim that got into some shit again.” — she laughed and took your hand.

“Listen, don't memorize your vows, speak from the heart. Remember how he makes you feel, remember his every look and touch, remember how he looks at you. And don't forget to add his nickname at the end. What do you always call him?” — Athena looked into your eyes and smiled. She knew for sure that your vows would be perfect.

“Light of my life.”

You woke up and were breathing heavily. It was a flashback from your wedding. Of course, you always called him "light of my life." Because he saved you from the darkest stage of your life.

You had your favorite white tulips at the wedding. Buck wanted everyone to come in colorful outfits, but you insisted on a dress code. And the cake ended up being 5 times bigger than you expected, so at the end of the day you handed it out to each guest, so they could eat it at home.

You remembered. Panic began to take over your whole body. Or is it just your love for your husband has returned and your body is responding to it?

You lifted the blanket, got out of bed, and hurried to the room where Buck sleeps. But he wasn't sleeping, you saw the light in his room and opened the door.

“Buck…” — you whispered and felt tears on your cheeks.

“Hey. Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” — Buck saw how panicked you were and rushed to stand next to you. He put his hands on your shoulders and looked into your eyes. “Talk to me.”

“Light of my life.”

He froze. Did you remember? Or is he dreaming? He didn’t want to move to not scare the reality. He just wanted to stay in this moment.

“You don't like oranges, so we immediately told the pastry chef not to offer us cakes with oranges. You really want children, so on our second date we started choosing names for our children. When you were struck by lightning, you pretended to be a Flash for 3 months, and when I dyed my hair and didn't tell you about it, you started calling me because you didn't recognize me, even though I was standing next to you the whole time.” — you started rattling off the facts of your relationship quickly, as if you were afraid to forget, but you remembered everything.

You saw the tears in Buck's eyes and started crying even harder. You couldn't even imagine what he was going through these two months while you didn't remember anything.

“I knew you would remember.” — he said and had the biggest smile on his face. “C-can I kiss you?”

“Please.” — you said it and pulled him to you for a kiss. So desirable for both of you.

“Don’t cancel Europe, we need more memories.”

Buck just laughed, picked you up and carried you to the bed. It's going to be a long night.

[sinofwriting]

Not Quite Temptation - Max Verstappen

Words: 874 Summary: Christian introduces Max to his daughter. Note(s): This was requested months ago and I apologize to the requester that it took so long for me to write it, but I hope you enjoy! Also, I’m aware of the complaint that has been filed on Horner (the complaint from what I understand (and seen from majority sources) is about aggressive management i.e. controlling behavior). I understand if seeing this makes people uncomfortable and if it does, I urge you to scroll past and ignore this.

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Christian had been thrilled when his oldest child, his daughter, had finally wanted to come to a race. He wasn’t delusional. He knew it wasn’t because she had finally gained a larger interest in the sport, no matter how much he had tried over the years. It was simply to spend time with him. Which as much as he pretended to complain to Geri about it (because honestly if she wanted to spend time with him, it’d be much easier not during a race weekend) he loved it.

He hadn’t gotten to really be a part of her life as she grew up, custody arrangement strict due to all of his traveling. It was only later when she turned sixteen that really she and him truly got to spend time together. Her mother allowing her to spend weeks at his house, more comfortable as well with Geri being there. There was a little part of him however that was bitter that it took this long for her to attend a race, that her mother had been so insistent on her not going to races when she was underage.

He pushed away the thought, just happy that finally wanted to go to one, even if it was just to see and spend time with him.

Introducing her around, he laughs when Adrian’s eyes go a little wide.

“Why that can’t be little Y/N? You were twelve the last time I saw you. And this high.” He raises his hand to just a little above his waist. “Eight years changes a lot.” She laughs. “What dad doesn’t show a picture of me around?” It’s a joke, but a few people overhearing flinch, exchanging looks. “If you’d let me show pictures of you, I would. I’m very proud.” Christian says, wrapping an arm around her and kissing the top of her head, still in disbelief that he had a twenty-year-old daughter. It didn’t feel right or real. “I know.”

He smiles, nodding at Adrian before directing to where the driver’s rooms are. “C’mon, I want you to meet Max. It’s nearly a crime you haven’t met him till now.” “Aw, your golden child. Or second golden child.” He mock scowls at her. “You need to stop talking to Seb.” “No way. His girls call me Auntie.” Christian makes a humming noise, stopping in front of a closed door and raising his fist to knock.

“Max. Do you have a moment? There’s someone I’d like you to meet.” He hears the driver groan through the door. “Christian, I really don’t want to meet a sponsor right now, okay. I’m not feeling well.” “Not a sponsor, I promise.” “Pleasant.” She murmurs when Max doesn’t say anything else. It makes him glance down and he’s relieved to see an amused smile on her face. “How often are you forcing him to meet sponsors?” “You sound like him right now.” He tells her. As she starts to laugh, the door opens.

“Max,” Christian smiles. “This is my daughter, Y/N. Y/N, Max Verstappen.” “Your golden child.” She teases, before reaching out to shake Max’s hand that he had extended. “Nice to meet you, Max. My dad is quite fond of you.” “Lovely to meet you.” He tells her, before looking at Christian for a brief second with a raised eyebrow. “Is this your first race?” “It is.” “Let me give you a tour, introduce you to a few drivers. Any minute now, Christian will have to go to a meeting.” “Oh, you don’t have to do that.” She says, leaning just the slightest bit into him and he knows that Max picks up on it with the way his eyes soften a bit. “It’s no problem really. Besides, this means your dad will owe me a favor.” He winks. Christian wants to protest, but she laughs and he nods. “One favor and my meeting should only be an hour, darling.” He presses another kiss to her head. “Careful with my daughter, Max and don’t take her around Toto or Esteban. That’s the last thing I need.” “Got it, boss.”

A little over an hour later, as Christian enters the garage, his eyes quickly spot his daughter who's talking to Adrian again, her hands moving around as she explains something to him. He considers going over, but Adrian has that look on his face. The one where he’s fully paying attention and getting some sort of idea from what the other person is telling him.

Letting his eyes wander around the garage, they pause on Max and he nearly freezes because that is the look of a man clearly checking someone out and a sick sort of feeling forms in his stomach. Following his line of sight, his fists clench and he struggles not to yell. Because it was his daughter that Max was looking at. His fucking daughter.

Looking at her, he takes a few deep breaths, comforting himself with the fact that she’d never be interested in someone like Max. Completely missing how her hair is no longer up but down and carefully covering parts of her neck and how she keeps shifting her weight. He also completely misses the small glances and smiles Max and her exchange.

@cixrosie @darleneslane @fanboyluvr @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @quackquackhun @rewmuslupin @copper-boom @stopeatread @crashingwavesofeuphoria @jointhehunt67 @namgification @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @hiireadstuff @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @bibliosaurous @skepvids @elliegrey2803

[ghoulsbounty]

Hi! I wanted to request a TH/fem reader and RZMM/fem reader

Maybe like a how would they show possessiveness over someone? A little angsty bc they're big guys and they would definitely manhandle their so in the heat of the moment

How Thomas Hewitt and RZ!Michael Myers Show Possessiveness Over You

Warnings: smut (18+), aggressive sex, slight mention of dumbification, manhandling, bruising/mark making, angst, obsession, stripping, stalking, slight yandere i guess?, possessiveness, canon-typical violence, control.

Words: 2.7K

A/N: Anon, thank you so much for my first slasher request! I love these boys so much and wanted to delve into their intentions behind their protectiveness a little, cause I think it would be very different for both. This is my first time writing a headcanon, I hope I've done you proud. I’d love to know what you all think to this, and feel free to send me more requests 💌

Thomas Hewitt

→ Thomas's struggle with social norms makes his possessiveness glaringly apparent. He perceives everyone outside the family as a potential threat to his happiness, particularly when it concerns you. His demeanour shifts abruptly at the slightest hint of danger; his typically measured movements become swift and aggressive. Despite his efforts to restrain his emotions in public, such as at the Cele Community Centre where you and his mother work, Thomas often finds himself instinctively drawn to your side. His hand firmly grasps the fabric of your shirt, his protective stance evident to anyone who dares to look at you. His gaze sweeps the surroundings with a discerning eye, meticulously assessing each customer until you gently remove his grip and convince him to wait in the back.

→ Thomas's overprotectiveness occasionally acts as a double-edged sword, simultaneously shielding you from harm while subtly restricting your freedom. As a man of few words, he struggles to articulate the depth of his need to keep you safe, resulting in actions that may be misinterpreted as possessiveness rather than genuine concern or fear of losing you. He means well, but it can feel suffocating.

→ Preferring to keep you within his line of sight whenever possible, Thomas's protective instincts often clash with the demands of daily life, leading to occasional conflicts with Charlie over the use of his time. The older man's frustration with what he perceives as your bad influence over Thomas' attention to his work further exacerbates tensions within the household. 

→ Certain areas of the house are off limits to you. The basement serves as a sanctuary for Thomas's work, and he is adamant that you are shielded from the horrors that happen inside. However, he still insists on your presence nearby, perched on the steps that lead down to the space or listening to the radio in the dining room upstairs. Your proximity seems to offer him a sense of security and focus, enabling him to delve into his his task with unwavering concentration and produce some of his best work.

→ Thomas finds solace in words of affirmation and constantly seeks reassurance from you. Despite the intimacy you share and the countless times you've assured him otherwise, he harbours an unshakeable fear that if he loosens his grip even for a moment, you might slip away from him. This nagging insecurity gnaws at him, overshadowing moments of connection, leaving him perpetually haunted by the possibility of losing you.

→ Physical gestures become one your languages of reassurance. You hold his hand tightly, intertwining your fingers as a silent promise that you're there for him. Running your fingers through his hair as he nuzzles into you becomes a comforting ritual, soothing both him and you. Your touch on his chest, just over his heart, keeps his anxieties at bay.

→ Words also become a source of comfort for Thomas. You express your pride in him, highlighting his strengths and the ways he makes your life better. You tell him how happy you are to have him by your side, emphasizing that he's not just your protector but also your partner. Sometimes, the simplest affirmations have the greatest impact on Thomas. Hearing you call him "yours" fills him with a sense of belonging and purpose, and when you tell him that he's been good, he can't help but prove just how good he can be by filling you with his fingers, tongue or cock.

→ Thomas feels most valued when you grant him your undivided attention and allow him to reciprocate. He revels in spending hours between your legs, skilfully coaxing orgasm after orgasm from your willing body until you're left a whimpering, trembling mess beneath him. Despite his efforts to maintain control in your relationship, you always seem to hold the upper hand, which is why he finds solace in reducing you to a thoroughly fucked-out state on his bed. In those moments, with your mind blissfully empty and your body consumed by a primal hunger for his touch, he feels a sense of power and satisfaction unlike any other.

→ Despite this, the mounting tensions within the household, particularly with Charlie, often leave Thomas grappling with pent-up aggression. As the demands on his time intensify, with Charlie clamouring for more of Thomas's attention and you taking on additional shifts at the community centre to assist his mother, Thomas finds it increasingly challenging to maintain his composure.

→ You've become attuned to the subtle shifts in his demeanour, recognizing the tell-tale signs when he's received a stern tongue lashing from his uncle or had a particularly taxing session in the basement. Thomas' simmering rage begins to permeate his interactions with you. His touch, once tender and reassuring, now carries an undercurrent of tension. The few words he mutters in your presence are laced with frustration and discontent, rather than devotion.

→ Despite your best efforts to sooth him, there are moments when Thomas's volatile emotions threaten to overwhelm him. In those instances, you find yourself walking on eggshells, navigating the precarious balance between offering solace and inadvertently stoking the flames of his anger. You are never fearful of Thomas, but these are the times when you remove yourself from his presence when possible. That is, until you learn that the best way to calm him during these storms is with your body.

→ Thomas's heavy-handed nature becomes even more pronounced during these moments of heightened emotion. He handles you with a forcefulness that borders on brutality, moulding and contorting your body into painful positions that elicit tears of discomfort. While he typically refrains from spanking you unless requested, in these instances, his large hand comes crashing down upon your flesh with punishing force, leaving behind welts and bruises that you carry for days. Unlike his usual attentiveness to your pleasure, Thomas's focus shifts solely towards finding an outlet for his frustration, using your body as a means to an end in his quest for release. He bites, scratches, and fucks every inch of you with an almost desperate intensity, seeking solace in the physical connection between you.

→ Yet, there are fleeting moments of clarity when the clouds in his eyes dissipate, and the gentle giant you know and love re-emerges. It's in these moments of vulnerability that you offer him comfort, reassuring him that he can take what he needs from you, and that you will still love him.

→ After the intensity of the moment subsides, Thomas retreats into the solitude of the basement, locking himself away as a form of self-imposed punishment for his mistreatment of you. Despite your efforts to coax him out, reassuring him of your well-being and offering comfort, he remains secluded until he feels ready to face you once more. When Thomas finally does emerge, you're quick to envelop him in the warmth of your affection and reassurance. With a soft kiss to his leather-clad cheek, you convey your unwavering support and understanding, letting him know that you harbour no resentment towards him.

→ In the aftermath of the encounter, Thomas's protective instincts kick into overdrive as he tends to any wounds that adorn your body, his touch gentle yet purposeful. It's in these moments that his true nature shines through—he may be heavy-handed and prone to bouts of aggression, but above all else, he possesses a deep-seated desire to care for and protect you, to make amends for any harm he may have caused.

RZ!Michael Myers

→ Michael's possessive nature over you begins with an intense and inexplicable fixation. From the moment his eyes land on you, something primal within him snaps, and he becomes singularly obsessed with making you his own.

→ He can't quite explain what draws him to the Red Rabbit Lounge that evening, but as he leans against the wall, trying to catch his breath after a harrowing escape from Smith's Grove, he is immediately captivated when you emerge from the back door. Unlike others who shrink away from him in fear, you meet his gaze with a calm demeanour, lighting your cigarette and casually pointing out his papier-mâché mask. Your nonchalant remark about liking the orange because it reminds you of your favourite holiday only adds to the intrigue, sparking something deep within Michael's psyche.

→ Following that initial encounter, Michael becomes an omnipresent presence in your life, a shadow that lingers at the edges of your awareness. You sense him in the periphery of your vision, catch glimpses of his shadow darting past windows, and hear the faintest rustle of his breath in the stillness of the night. He becomes your unseen companion, meticulously observing your every move. He studies your routines and habits, committing them to memory with an almost obsessive attention to detail. Always one step ahead, he waits patiently until the opportune moment presents itself to make his presence truly known.

→ Michael finds immense pleasure in the exhilarating pursuit of you, convinced that you share in his enjoyment of the chase. He keenly observes the subtle signs of your awareness, noticing the wry smirk that graces your lips when you sense his presence nearby. In those moments, he imagines feeling the same giddiness that surges through you when he lightly brushes your hair, a fleeting touch that leaves you yearning for more, even as it vanishes before you can turn around. The first time you called out to him, he battled against every instinct urging him to step out from the shadows and claim you as his own. Despite the overwhelming desire possess you, he restrains himself, savouring the anticipation of the inevitable moment when he would finally make his move.

→ In Michael's twisted psyche, you are more than just a person; you are a coveted prize that he will protect at all costs. He perceives himself as the sole rightful owner of your being, and he harbours an intense fixation on claiming you as his own.

→ As the regular patrons of the lounge mysteriously vanish one by one, leaving a bewildered community in their wake, Michael remains a silent observer, his gaze fixed unwaveringly upon you. He knows all too well the allure of your presence, the captivating dance you perform for these men, reminiscent of the performances his late mother once gave. Yet, while others may see you as an entertainer, Michael sees something far deeper—a connection, a possession, a symbol of his ultimate dominance that he must preserve.

→ From the shadows, he watches as you bare your body to these patrons. To Michael, it doesn't matter whether you are aware of his claim over you; what matters is that he sees you as his, and he will go to any lengths to ensure that no one dares to challenge him. In his mind, you are his alone, and he will stop at nothing to secure what he believes is rightfully his.

→ When Michael finally decides to collect his prize, it's in the eerie stillness of the night. He patiently waits in the shadows of your home, a silent sentinel standing rigidly in the corner of your bedroom as he observes your every move. You can feel his presence, an unspoken acknowledgment that he has come to stake his claim on his property.

→ As you undress, acutely aware of his watchful gaze, a shiver runs down your spine. There's a palpable tension in the air, a sense of anticipation mingled with apprehension. Yet, despite the unease that courses through you, there's also a strange allure, a primal instinct drawing you inexorably towards him. When you finally coax him from the shadows, he engulfs you in his arms with a ferocity that takes your breath away. The force of his embrace is suffocating, his touch demanding as he grasps and claws at every part of your body. In that moment, there's no denying the intensity of his desire, the need to make you his own consuming him entirely.

→ Michael is not gentle with you; he doesn't hold back his deep urges to possess you completely. He revels in your whimpers and the screams of his name as he stretches you open and takes what he deems rightfully his. His touch is rough, unyielding, as if trying to merge your bodies into one. Each movement is driven by a fierce need to mark you, to ensure you understand that you belong to him and no one else. Every night with Michael is filled with a mix of pain and pleasure. His eyes intense and unwavering, remain locked on you, drinking in every reaction, every cry. To him, this is the final step in owning you, the ultimate act of protecting what is his.

→  Removing the mask takes time. It's one evening, after the intensity of your shared orgasms have ebbed, and Michael lies heavy on top of you. Your fingers tentatively trace the edges of the white rubber mask, sensing his body tense beneath your touch. His hand instinctively reaches out, grasping your wrist to halt your movement, but your lips find solace in the warmth of his knuckles as you plant a gentle kiss, your breath whispering a desire to see him. For a fleeting moment, there's resistance, a hesitancy borne from years of concealing his true self, before he lets you unmask him. His long hair cascades over your face as the mask falls away, revealing the man beneath. In that vulnerable moment, you stroke his sweat-glistened cheek, your fingers tracing the contours of his features as you call him "handsome", perhaps the first time he's heard the word since his mother.

→ Despite Michael's disapproval of your continued work at the lounge, you are unwilling to relinquish your independence completely. He grumbles and fumes when things don't go his way, but deep down, he appreciates your defiance, feels a strange allure in your willingness to challenge him. Although his overly protective nature remains, he secretly enjoys the way you push back against his control, finding a strange sense of satisfaction in the game of give and take between you. A hand on his chest or a kiss along his strong jawline is all it takes for him to soften, his resolve melting under the warmth of your affection. You eventually compromise, only working certain shifts and allowing him to escort you home. As if you really have a choice on the matter. Michael finds your attempts at negotiation endearing.

→ If anyone dares to come between Michael and what is his, he reacts with violent outbursts of rage. His attacks are brutal and merciless, driven by a primal need to assert his dominance and protect you. Unfortunately, you are also not exempt from his aggression, and when he catches sight of you one night, engaged in conversation with a stranger outside the back of the lounge during your smoke break, he snaps. In a frenzy of fury, he swiftly disposes of the man, his actions marked by a sickening crunch of bones as his body is hurled against the brick wall. Then, turning his attention to you, Michael's muscles coil with tension and his chest heaves with barely-contained anger. Gripping your arms so fiercely that bruises bloom in their wake, he shoves you against the wall, once, then again, as if attempting to jolt some some sense into you.

→ With swift determination, Michael hoists you over his shoulder and retreats into the shadows, his purposeful strides carrying you home. But the journey doesn't lead to the bedroom; instead, he deposits you onto the stairs with a roughness that steals your breath. There, in the dim light, he strips away the remnants of your clothing, his actions forceful and unyielding. Again and again, he fucks into you with a ferocity that leaves you screaming his name, your pleas mingling with the echoes of both passion and pain. In those moments, as his protectiveness gives way to possession and consumes you, you find yourself uttering the words he craves to hear—that you are his, and his alone.

→ Yet, even amidst the ecstasy, a shadow of uncertainty looms. You can never be certain that Michael wouldn't cross that final line, that his compulsion wouldn't drive him to take everything from you, including your life. For Michael, protection is not just about control—it's about ownership to the point of obsession. If he can't have you, no one else can either.

[thebenjiblackwoodexpress]

Delicate part.1

Description: As a young knight, Ser Gwayne Hightower journeys to King's Landing to take part in his first tourney. Eager to see his beloved sister Alicent and prove himself to his distant father, Gwayne finds himself enamoured by Alicent's friend.

Part 2

Writer's note: Elizabeth here. I thought I would try my hand at writing a story for the icon that is Gwayne Hightower. The reader/Y/N of the story will be on the asexual spectrum.

Warnings: Female reader/Y/N, but I won't be going into details about their appearance. Team Green sentiments. Positive sentiments towards Alicent (I can't help it, I love her).

The sun shone over King’s Landing, a gentle breeze carrying the scent of salt and spice from the port and markets of Fleabottom across the air, as a young knight rode towards the Red Keep. As the imposing structure of the Red Keep came into view, Ser Gwayne Hightower struggled to fully suppress the trepidation he felt as he approached the entrance and was hailed by two guards.

“Who goes there?”

Pushing his nervousness as a young knight of but ten and seven years aside, he schooled his expression into one conveying the confidence of a knight far beyond his years. Arriving at the King’s stronghold to compete in his first tournament against other knights, not just bannermen of the Hightowers from Oldtown, he attempted to conceal any signs of apprehension from his features.

“You may announce the arrival of Ser Gwayne Hightower, son of the Hand of the King, my good man, and do make haste about it. The journey has been long, and I would benefit from the illustrious hospitality of your King.” He addressed the guards before him, with not a small degree of arrogance, a smirk on his face.

Presenting his patent of nobility, illustrated with the green and black sigil of his House, with a flourish, he nodded respectfully towards the guards as they granted him admittance to the Red Keep. Riding forth with an air of confidence he did not fully feel, an illusion he was no stranger to assuming, he surveyed the vastness of the King’s stronghold. Meeting the gaze of any knight’s he encountered on his progress with a jaunty smirk and nod in their direction, he dismounted from his horse gracefully, before entrusting it to the care of a stable boy, ruffling the boy’s hair as he did so.

His first order of business was to locate his dear sister, who he had not seen for many months now, but who he sorely missed, living so far away from her as he did in his father’s seat in Oldtown.

Gwayne made his way through the Keep, familiar with the route to the courtyard where he expected to find his dear sister, knowing from her letters and his previous visits it to be the place she often sought repose from the pressures of Court. 

Striding along the balustrade overhanging the courtyard, he knew he was right when he heard the sweet sound of his sister's laughter, accompanied by that of another's. He promptly increased the pace of his strides in anticipation of their happy reunion after months apart. His Lord father's decision to take Alicent with him to King's Landing, leaving him to preside over their seat in Oldtown, had been a source of pain for them both. Two years her senior, Gwayne doted on his sister, even more so after the untimely death of their beloved mother when Alicent was but ten and twelve years old. Gwayne had always sought to compensate for the loss of their mother's loving presence with his attentive care and love towards his sister, something his own father was unwilling or unable to provide them with. Alicent had clung to him and wept when she was leaving High Tower and he was scarcely able to suppress his own emotions, as he tried to comfort her, promising to write to her everyday and to visit when he could.

Alicent had written to Gwayne immediately to inform him that the King was to hold a tourney, asking him to arrive at the Keep a few weeks before the event, so that they could extend their time together. Gwayne had sent his acquiescence to her request by raven the next day, rejoicing at the thought of reuniting with his beloved sister and escaping the suffocating halls of his ancestral home. In the absence of the warmth of his late mother's love and his sister's laugh, as he chased her through the halls, his home had the ominous feeling of being haunted by shadows of long past happiness. 

Hearing more laughter, he looked over the balustrade onto the courtyard below, expecting to call out in greeting to Alicent. He paused, however, when instead of Alicent, he saw another young lady standing in the middle of the courtyard by the white trunk of a tree. Her eyes were closed and she smiled as she counted down from ten, before opening them rapidly and looking about her.

"I'm coming to get you, Alicent!" 

He was arrested in his movements by the sight of her, struck by her pretty features. A smile grew on his own face as he watched their game continue. His heart was warmed to see that his sister had not been without friendship in King's Landing, and this warm feeling extended to the lady searching for his sister below. 

He quietly chuckled in amusement as he saw the girl search this way and that for Alicent, and he slowly made his descent to the courtyard, careful not to make too much noise, and alert her to his presence. 

Approaching the lady, who now searched for Alicent behind the trunk of the tree, with careful steps he bent his torso to lower his head next to hers and whisper conspiratorially near her ear.

"I do believe, my dear Lady, that my sister is to be found yonder, by that bushel." 

Surprised by his presence, the lady let out a high pitched shriek and stumbled back a step, tripping over a raised stump of the tree. 

His eyes widening in alarm, not having truly intended to frighten her, he swiftly reached his arm out to encircle her waist and prevent her from falling. Holding her hand in his free hand, he looked into her eyes with concern.

"Are you well, my Lady? I apologise for startling you."

A brief look of confusion passed over the lady's expression before she processed what had happened, and it was was replaced by a stern one. Holding onto his elbows to right herself, she responded with a chastising tone, promptly removing herself from his hold

"I don't know what you mean by sneaking up behind me, Ser."

Seeing that she was unharmed by his fumble, and seeking to restore himself to her good opinion, he rallied himself.

With a charming grin, he elegantly bowed before her, one hand on his heart and the other taking hers confidently in his to plant a gentle kiss on it. 

"Please accept this Knight's humble apologies, my dear Lady. I had only meant to aid you in your game." 

He frowned slightly as the lady quickly withdrew her hand from his, fearing he had really offended her.

"Spoil it, more likely" Alicent laughed, emerging from behind the bushel Gwayne had indicated a moment ago. 

Pulling his eyes away from those of the beautiful lady before him to meet his sister's sally, Gwayne opened his arms out to her, "sister!"

Alicent needed no further invitation before she ran into his arms and he lifted her up, spinning her half a turn, before returning her to the ground and wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

Once again turning with what he hoped was a winning smile to the lady before them, Gwayne sought to invest as much charm as he could into his voice.

"I have yet to be introduced to your lovely friend, sister."

Looking up at him with her own stern look, Alicent playfully swiped at his shoulder.

"You have already made a mess of that, brother. You half frightened Lady Y/N to death when you rudely interrupted." 

With an exaggerated sigh, Gwayne responded to his sister's accusation.

"I know I am the basest of villains and I will put myself to the sword forthwith if the Lady Y/N will not forgive me my crime." He rejoined, solemnly, bending his head in mock dejection, even as he really did feel contrite to have frightend the young lady.

Slapping him on the back of the head, which had Gwayne holding his neck in mock pain, Alicent pressed her index finger to his chest and warned him.

"Y/N won't be charmed by your antics, Gwayne. I have warned her of them beforehand."

Smiling indulgently down at his sister before looking over at the lady Y/N once again, who he rejoiced to see smiling in amusement at the two siblings, he held his hand to his heart dramatically, as if her words were an arrow through it.

"You wound me sister. I was under the impression you had asked me here to be your champion at the upcoming tourney, precisely because I am the most charming of knights. I hadn't realised I needed to be good with the lance too. An unfortunate oversight. I had thought my charming smile would be enough to fend the other knights off."

The laughter of the ladies at his antics sounded like the delicate chime of bells to him, and he was elated to have entertained them both and, hopefully, returned himself to the good favour of the pretty lady before him. 

Meeting her gaze with his own, a softened expression on it, which communicated his contrition for having startled her, despite his jesting, his heart fluttered as she met his gaze with an amused smile.

"I'm afraid you are to meet a swift and brutal defeat, Ser, if your charm is the only weapon in your arsenal."

Laughing heartily at her wit, he winked in response.

"Fear not, sweet ladies, I have a few tricks up my sleeve, should my smile not be enough to blind the other knights. Although I am convinced that it will be."

As introductions were made, the three sat together underneath the russett foliage of the tree above them, exchanging recollections from their childhoods and talking excitedly of the plans they had to make the most of their time together before the tourney.

After an hour or so had passed of Gwayne delighting in amusing the ladies with his, admittedly, embellished tales of gallantry and heroism, his face fell slightly.

The sparkle in his eye diminishing, he turned to Alicent.

"With regret, my dear ladies, I have tarried too long in your sweet company and must present myself to my father."

Alicent looked commiseratingly at her brother, knowing as she did how little her Lord Father cared for his son's presence. 

"I'm sure father will be most pleased to see you. In any case, I certainly am." 

Looking up at his sister from his somewhat reclined position along the grass, in front of the two ladies, his expression softened and he squeezed her hand affectionately before jumping up. 

Bowing before the ladies respectfully, he wished them a good afternoon before turning on his heel in the direction of his father's apartments, little expecting a happy reunion. 

Otto Hightower's reception of his son was as cold as he had expected it to be but, mercifully, short. He had only expressed his expectation that his son would perform to the honour of their House at the upcoming tourney, and shown him his living quarters, which were along the hall from Alicent's.

At dinner, Gwayne and Alicent had only been able to exchange glances at one another in solidarity. He had sought her out in her own apartments afterwards to catch up on the events they had missed in each other's lives over the course of months of separation.

With a boyish timidity, Gwayne asked Alicent if he might join her in her activities the following day, outside of his own training schedule. Looking indulgently at her brother and taking his hand in hers, she responded in a light, jesting tone.

"Why on earth do you think I asked you here, if not to spend time with me, you fool?"

Smiling at her in earnest now, Gwayne playfully tapped his chin.

"As I said, sister, my charming smile and dashing manner will be your champions at the tourney." 

Gwayne allowed himself to fall backwards against the chaise he was sitting on as his sister playfully pushed him in the chest and rolled her eyes at him. 

Smirking at his sister, Gwayne posed his next question with a similarly jesting tone, which he hoped concealed his vested interest in her answer.

"And will your lovely friend be joining us?" He asked, a glint in his eye. 

Alicent swatted him on the shoulder.

"Y/N has been a good friend to me. The days have not been half so long or lonely since I met her. I do hope you two will be good friends. I’ve told her so much about you."

"Nothing good, I hope," he smirked. "I have a reputation as a shameless charmer to maintain."

"Be good, Gwayne. She won't fall for your charm."

Rising to bid Gwayne good night as she left the room, Alicent did not hear Gwayne murmur quietly, "we'll see about that."

Part 2 up

@liafiction @ambrosia-v-black @darknessinside11 @just-some-random-blogger

[lady-ashfade]

Mates By Fate

Various Hybrid!Characters x Human!Fem!Reader.

Plot: The adoption center is filled with many different hybrids from all sorts. But when one gets a whiff of your scent that they can’t help but get excited to see you.

Characters: Rabbit!Izuku midoriya, Wolf!Katsuki Bakugo, Dog!Eijiro Kirishima, Cat!Shoto Todoroki

Warnings: quick adoption, licking, love at first sight, mention of dark past, not much.

Rabbit! Izuku Midoriya

The building was filled with all types of noises, from barks to meows, even some growls. Some hybrids were out playing and doing their own things, some playing in groups outside or maybe they enjoyed their own company. Izuku was watching a movie that had come on just in time for his break. All hybrids get a break from the others to focus on themselves if needed, and he decided to watch his favorite movie. Super Hybrid: All might. Oh, how he adored the movie and the man it was about. His room filled with decorations of Allmight himself, posters on every wall.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off the screen when the scene came on. Allmight fighting a bad guy, his tail smacking him around from place to place. It was like watching it for the first time, he was on the edge of his seat cheering at the screen for his hero. Not much could get his attention away from this movie, so when a scent came into his nose it peaked his interest. What was that smell? So sweet, soft yet bold, how could something smell so perfect? His flappy ears stood up and his attention drew to the hallway where his door was cracked open. Grabbing the remote be paused the movie and walked to the door.

He poked his head out slowly to see what was going on and if he could find the source of the smell. Then he saw the owner of the adoption center in the middle of the hallway, then a woman standing next to her about three doors down. A hybrid with droopy ears likes his but brown, the hybrid rubbed her head against the new woman’s hand as she smiled. When he saw you, he felt the world crash onto him with a kick to the chest.

Mate.

The words rang through his head and made his body tense up at the thought of having you in his life. But, he couldn’t have a mate? And not someone as pretty as you? He cheeks heated up while staring at you with wide eyes frozen in the doorway to his room. He could hear your conversation but didn’t truly listen, the words sounding like muffles to him. But a few seconds later your head turned when the owner said something and you looked right at him.

He yelps and slips back into his room quickly from being caught and your attention. His heart raced as fast as it could go as he panicked over every detail. Did you really see him? Was he imagining you here? What if this was a dream and he’d wake up mateless again? What if you don’t want him as a mate anyway? So many questions ran through his speedy head and made him panic.

“Izuku,” the old woman’s sweet voice called him out of his thoughts as she walked into the open room. “We have a visitor, like to meet them?” Your frame shuffled into the room and waved softly, the smile on your lips look like heaven. All he could do is stare and mumble nervously with words you couldn’t understand.

“He’s shy, but he’s a good hybrid to have around.” You nodded and reached into your pocket and his attention calmed down at the other scent he loved. Treats. A brown little heart shaped treat rest in your hands and pushed it towards him. “Hello, Izuku. My names Y/n.” The name engraved itself into his brain. The excitement finally washed over him and shot throughout his body, making him so happy that his leg started to tap and take the treat into his mouth.

He was so happy as he chew and you watched his nose crinkle with each bite, his happy feet bouncing. You giggled at the sight, he was your favorite by far. “I’ll let you have some time with him, seeing as he’s your perfect match. I shall be just outside with the other hybrids, call if you need anything.” She bowed and walked out the room.

You look at izuku and a nervous smile spread your face as he inched closer, no threatening gestures but with a curious look. His noses sniffed around your hand and up your wrists, he looked so focused. Then he nudged his faces across it like he was petting himself and your heart exploded. He looked so happy and relaxed with your touch.

“Mate.” He muttered and you froze up. Did he say that or was it a mistake…Mate? That’s interesting but you can’t help but feel like it was right. “Tell me, do you want me to take you home?” He jumped up and hugged your leg and you almost fell. Laughing you reach down to pet this hair.

He was interesting, he couldn’t get himself off of you. But he was perfectly sweet.

Wolf! Katsuki Bakugo

Katsuki is wasn’t one for social interaction, especially with new people he had just meet. Whenever someone came to look at the hybrids he wouldn’t let them get near and just walk off or give them attitude. He was adopted once before and it was the worst time of his life, humans were cruel and he knew damn well they couldn’t put up with him. So he put off the idea that he would find someone nice enough.

Kats didn’t get along with the other hybrids, only a selected group he allowed near him. If he wasn’t hanging around them then he was outside in the shade, or playing with a chew toy that need to be replaced each day. He loved to be outside a few hours because he had a lot of energy he couldn’t release inside. Today he decided to take a break and lay on the ground to take a quick nap, the shade and sun making him tired. Then, his nose picked up a scent. Shooting his head up from his resting place his head looked around for the scent he was smelling.

This wasn’t food, it wasn’t like anything he’s ever smelled before. It was the perfect smell for him. He craved to get near the source. So he stood up and looked around, his tail wagging behind him. Big and thick with blonde and white with brown tips like his ears. “Shit.” He smelled it out and followed trail. A beautiful laugh caught his ears and he looked up to see a woman smiling with the owner, a hybrid getting their head pat. Her. It was coming from her.

Mate. Claim. Mate.

She was his mate, his tail wagged harder but his head gave him trouble. He didn’t need a mate, and not a shitty human at that. What was she trying to do? He’s a alpha and not some pet she could keep in her house- But he wanted it. To be close to her at every second to keep he safe and sound. He groaned and fell close to the ground and behind the flowers, the garden being filled with big places with high planted flowers. It was easy for him to crawl closer without being caught, after all it was in his blood to hunt.

He got closer and watched for a second. “I’ll leave you to look around, I know of a few hybrids out here. A snake one, he’s usually in the trees and many others.” She smiles and took the cat hybrid inside, leaving you alone. Smiling to yourself and straighten your blouses then walk over to the flowers, smelling them. Bakugo wiggled his body and got ready to pounce on you, why? He just felt like it. But when you giggled and looked over at his direction he froze in shock and confusion.

“There’s a mirror wall behind you,” you look a seat on the bench beside you. “But don’t be discouraged, you would of had me.” The lighthearted tone in your voice made him heat up, and your smile with no anger in it. He rolled his eyes and stood up, inching closer to you with a glare, a low growl leaving his lips to imitate you with fear. You only smiled and pulled out a big threat, a bone shaped one.

“I apologize if I offended you, it was not my intention.” Standing up slowly you tossed the treat softly before him.  “But I hope you’ll take this treat as a apology, great wolf.” His ego built up at your praise and felt better. He took the treat and took a few bites. While he was focused on the treat you backed up to leave him alone, not wanted to anger him. Wolfs can be very territorial when it comes to it, so you wouldn’t egg him in. 

“I didn’t say go, damn human.” His tough voice caught you off guard. You turned around to see him soften his glare and look at the bench you once sat at. “Sit.” You smirked for a second and walked back to the bench and did as he said. He was adorable. You stuck out your hand for him to sniff and he hesitated, looking up at you like asking permission or to get a read on you. But you only flashed him a eye closing smile.

His noses poked your hand and sniffed all around to take in your scent in, and his body turned into mush. Your scent, he craved it. “Damn, of course it be a human.” He huffed and crossed his arms. You looked at him confused, “Hmm?” Kats rolled his eyes hard and pointed at you, “Mate.” He enjoyed how you looked at him in shock and flustered.

“Now, go get the paper work done so I can leave. I wouldn’t let anyone leave with you today wether you like it or not.” His tail stomped the ground as his teeth really showed to threaten the people he thought of. “Well? Go!” You giggled and rushed away from the shouting hybrid, a rough one.

He was demanding and didn’t care. He however, was loving on the way to your house so you didn’t mind.

Shoto Todoroki

Shoto is a hybrid that likes to take naps, his cat like nature is strong. The sunlight can make him fall asleep anywhere, no matter the place. He also loves to climb up on things to take a nice nap, mostly on a cat like tree they have for hybrids. He also has a scratching problem but not in a bad way, he just needs to stretch often. Those are the things he does in a day. Wake up, scratch, eat, Nap, scratch and then repeat. However he does hang out with some hybrids on occasion.

Today Shotos place of choice was in front of the art rooms door, so close to getting hit if someone opened the door fully. The hybrid didn’t notice this when he went to sleep or he would have scooted a bit further. You wanted to explore the place and decide to check the art room to see what’s it was like. When you opened the door you didn’t see the hybrid behind you, only a tail that curled and swung slowly. Stopping and not pushing the door any further you walked through the gap and poke your head around to see the hybrid laying there.

His hair mix toned, red and white. His tail thin but long, white fur all the way down. But his ears matched the hair on each side, he was gorgeous. You smile and push all the way in the room and close the door as quietly as you can, trying not to startle him. Kneeling down a few inches from him you start to call out softly for him to walk up. Clinking your tongue, “Little buddy, wake up please.” You repeated that line over and over. But he wasn’t little, only a small frame but you could see the muscles he had and how tall he was.

He slowly opened his eyes with a yawn, confused on what was going on. When he noticed you his demeanor changed slight. His face dropping and staring you, with almost a cold glare. Chuckling to not be afraid you step back, “Sorry, I just didn’t want you to get hurt. You were sleeping in front of the door.” You glanced at the door and showed him what you meant. But he didn’t stop staring at you with a unreadable expression.

Shoto was freaking out inside. Your scent drove him insane, one he wanted to run and nuzzle up to. He couldn’t look away from your pretty face or he would have. What was this? Had you have some sort of magic to bewitched him? Why was his body on fire? He had so many emotions and non of them made sense. Until his mouth started to water..

Mate.

The clicking sound echoed through his brain when he realized what you were to him. A mate. Fate was funny about bringing people together and he didn’t have to find you, you found him. “Hello?” You waved a hand in front of your face as he continued to be silent and frozen. He blinked finally and you felt relieved. “Call me shoto.” You hummed at the calming tone. “Y/n.” You reached out your hand with a smile. Of course he couldn’t hold himself back from taking it and sniffing you.

Your scent was so nice to smell, calming but made his blood pump. You had weird affects on his body. You watch him sniff you and it made you laugh as he kept hitting his nose against the center. He was booping his own nose. Then he did something unexpected and licked your hand softly. To give affection he kept doing it, small licks. Nothing more to the eyes. Only he did it to get his scent on you.

“Adopt me.” He look up at you blankly and you were taken aback by his boldness. “We just met, don’t you want to get a know me first?” You asked. Most hybrids take a week at least before getting comfortable with a owner, or at least a whole day. “I know all I need, you are my mate of course.” He nuzzled against your hand as his tail swayed around smoothly.

“Mates?” You questioned but couldn’t help but rub his cheek, he purred so loudly you could feel it. “Hmm, smell you. Us hybrids have mates, or some do and mine is you.” He shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “Now, I’m tired. Could you go get everything done so I can’t go back to napping?”

You took shoto home that night and he fell asleep on your nap. Followed you around the house with his head in your shoulders.

Eijiro Kirishima

Kiri likes to be with other hybrids and people, a social butterfly if you will. He always has a smile on his face to cheer and play with the others, the big brother of the estate. His dream is to one day have a forever home with a family that loves him but worries about being worthy. Despite always tell the others they’d get adopted or cheer them up, he felt the same way. But he puts it off and has fun instead, he’s very active. They had to build a new playground area just for him and hybrids like him who are rough but playful.

Kiri today was in the playroom all by himself and it saddens him, no one to play with. He’d have the rope in his mouth and swing it around almost like a weapon. Or jumping around from the bars to places, or his favorite. Catch. They had a device to throw the ball automatically and he loved it, almost as much as someone actually throwing him the ball. Kiri watched the ball get shot out and hit the table making it change direction to the door. To his surprise the door opened just as the ball rolled on the floor and stop between someone’s leg. His mind focused on the ball he chased after it.

His legs ran to catch the small object and only to be caught in another trance caused by a smell, a delicious smell. Stopping in his tracks he froze and looked up at the person at the door who now looked at the ball between her feet. A smile spread on her lips when she bent down to pick it up. The smell was coming from her. Was it a treat in her pocket? What flavor was it? That smell was heaven to his nose, like it was made just for him.

Mate.

Giggling you looked at the pup in front of you, a grip on the ball “Want me to throw it?” You wiggled it slightly. Thump thump. The sound of his huge fluffy tail hit the floor as he panted quietly. He was so excited. “Get it.” You threw it past him and made sure not to hit anything but far for him to have fun. He leaped up and chased after it, so fast and quick. It was cute to watch him bite the ball and chew down on it slightly then look back at you. He pranced back to you with his tail wagging, a pride filled aura as he puffed out his chest.

He dropped the ball at your feet and sat back on the floor, his tongue sticking out. “Awe, such a good boy.” You reached down to pet his head but gave him enough time to pull away if he’d like. But he didn’t so your hand patted the red hair, slightly touching the ears on his head. “My names Y/n.” Without a warning he jumps up and knocks you down, leaning onto of you and starts to lick across your face. His hands on your chest and tail making a breeze.

You laughed and tried to move but he didn’t let up on his actions. You smelled too good. You called him a good boy. A perfect mate for him. He leaned up and didn’t let his hands up from your stomach. “Eijiro Kirishima.” His smile was so wide you saw his teeth that looked perfectly white and sharp. Taking a breath you smile up at the hybrid you just met. “Nice to met you.” He jumped off you and waited for you to get up.

When you did you brushed off yourself and whipped your face off. Kiri stood up finally and you looked up at him, he was one of the biggest hybrids you have ever seen. Blushing at his height you giggled, he was just a huge puppy. “Are you here to adopt?” He asked, his ears and tail stopping and going down. You could tell he was sad and you wondered why.

“Yes, I am.” You see him look at the floor and a sad smile grew on his face. “They���d be luck to have you.” The heart in your chest shattered at his tone, so quick to dismiss himself. “Would you be willing to get adopted? I was looking for a dog hybrid…If you’re willing.” Kiri’s head shit up and his body started to wage and bounce. The sparkle in his eyes reappeared and his happiness coming back.

The next thing you know his arms are wrapping themselves around you and pulling you closer, his tongue licking your cheek. You patted his head, “I’ll take that as a yes.” You didn’t expect to meet the hybrid of your dreams on the first day of looking but here he was. “Mate, going home with my mate.” His words made you tense up. Mate? Does he think you’re his mate… Why doesn’t that not sound wrong?

“Okay, let’s go so I can go to the office.” He whined and hugged you closer. His head rested on your shoulder and he refused to let you go, he had a person for the first time. Too soon to let go. “You can come with him, but I need to walk.” He felt your chest vibrate with laughter and he huffed. His arms let your waist go but hooked on your arm instead.

You didn’t expect him to be so clingy and protective over you but that’s what he was. You’re now his home. But there’s no other pup for you.

[pearlfeline]

the world's best tour guide

peter parker x fem!reader/stark!reader

word count: 2.6k

tw: none

a/n: made this longer to make up for the last one but then i went so far i didn't know how to end it lol hope its still readable because i don't think so :') enjoy ALSO HOCO PETER CALLBACK BC I MISS WATCHING THAT MOVIE FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MIDDLE SCHOOL OH GOOOOOOOOD

“There needs to be somebody else with me!” Your father exclaimed.

“Oh, well maybe you should’ve thought of that before making this fraudulent internship?”

“It’s… real. It’s real to me.” Your father gazes at you longingly.

“Soooo people are supposed to believe I have to work my way up through this internship despite the fact that we share a last name and address?” You look up from your laptop for the first time during this conversation.

“There’s celebrities out there that don’t give their children even a penny, you’re lucky.” Tony shrugs, popping a grape in his mouth.

"Plus, it makes perfect sense! You're a little builder like me aren't you?" He says in between chews.

“Those are mine,” You snag the bowl back to your side of the kitchen island. “and I’m adopted!” You shove two grapes in your mouth to one-up him. “Do you know how effed up you would be to cut off my only source of income when I’m adopted?!” You were muffled by the grapes in your mouth.

“Don’t curse.”

“I said eff I didn’t say fuck.”

“DON’T CURSE.” Tony warned.

“Ugh, where’s mom? I wanna complain about you.” You groaned, taking yourself and your laptop upstairs.

“Leaving at 11:30!” Tony shouted through the stairs.

You waved him off, rushing to your room. You continued working on your computational model simulated lab that Bruce designed for you to play around with.

“Bam.” You say to yourself as you let the 3D models crash into eachother.

“Knock knock.” Your mom says quietly.

“Mom, don't say knock knock. Just knock on the door.”

“Honey, let’s get off the computer for a second.”

Pepper closes your laptop gently. “Just go with your father hon. He’s just using this as an excuse. He wants you to work with him more he loves you.” She crouches down at your eye level, taking your hand.

“Everybody knows how smart you are, they want to work with you. Okay? Okay. Great, get dressed.”

“It's not that I don't want to go, it's the fact that I'm probably not allowed to touch anything fun or follow dad anywhere cool. Also your pep talks are getting shorter and shorter.” You huffed.

“I’m hungry. I want lunch. Maybe your dad should’ve waited for me to make my toast before asking me to come up here.” Pepper takes one last look before leaving the room. “Be ready in 5 minutes.”

You begrudgingly come downstairs.

“You look great honey.” Tony clasps his hands together.

“I didn’t even change.” You said flatly.

“…Okay. In the car.”

Pepper gives you a look with many meanings behind it. If you had to guess, her expression meant “Be nice”, “He’s trying his best”, and “Shut up don’t complain”.

You give your mom a half-hearted thumbs up before leaving.

After a little while of driving, Happy comes to an abrupt stop.

“Dude what the-” Your phone dropped to the bottom of Happy’s seat in the process.

“Here’s the kid.” Tony says, trying to hide his smile. It was evident even from the backseat.

A boy with a linty hoodie and a beaten down bag waved to the car, a matching grin plastered on his face after he realized who was inside.

“Mr. Stark!” He exclaimed.

Your dad gets out of the car, exchanging words with the boy.

Tony opens his door. “Yeah go sit back there. Now, I trust you know not to bother my daughter.”

As if on cue, Peter opens the door to see you with intimidation in his eyes.

“Hi.”

“H-Hi.” Peter sits in his seat stiffly. He extends a hand and reels it back realizing what your dad had just said.

“He’s just kidding.” You shake your head, chuckling. “…I’m allowed to greet people.”

Peter swallows a lump in his throat. “Right. Of course. I’m just not sure if I can greet people.” He wipes his sweaty hand on his sleeve before extending it out again.

“Peter.” He looks up with a shy smile.

“Y/N.” You nod, shaking his hand.

“I saw you on youtube. The robot you built? The one that could project a hologram five times its size? So cool.” He gushes.

You smile shyly, having to look away from embarrassment.

“I’ve seen you on youtube too.” You grin subtly.

"...Oh god. I was only ten, my solar system was supposed to orbit around slowly. I used paperweights instead of styrofoam balls and the battery I used was high powered, they weren't supposed to fly out like that. I even paid for the school's camera with my Christmas money-"

"Uh- no.. I meant like the spider thing?"

Dumbfounded, Peter looks over to Tony through the rear view mirror. Tony meets his eyes and gives him a wink.

"Oh... I didn't know you knew about that." Peter sinks into his seat.

"Don't be embarrassed. I think it's cool." You smiled.

Peter unconsciously smiles back at you. "Thanks.. I…try." Peter cringes at his attempt to reply to you normally.

You lessen the distance between you and him and look at him fascinated.

"How do you swing around? Lab-made fibers? It looks.. almost organic."

Peter tries not to flinch and holds his breath. He should've brought his breath mints. What if his breath stinks? He ate a string cheese before he left the apartment.

"I-I uh- I make them myself. It's web fluid. When it flys out of my web shooters, it solidifies into that flexible, strong stuff." He pulls up his sleeve to show you.

"Woah, how many cartridges do you need?" You run your fingers along the band around his wrist, staring curiously.

"They last a while, but I switch them out like every few weeks-"

"We're here." Happy yawns, taking the opportunity to stretch his arms.

"Thanks Hogan." You pat his shoulder from the backseat and get out of the car.

Peter blinked and all of the sudden, everyone filed out of the car. He frantically steps out, his eyes having a hard time adjusting to the sun.

"Here." You push him three inches to the side, bringing a shadow to shield the sun from his eyes. A really big shadow.

Peter can't help but let his mouth hang open.

"Just as flashy as I remember it dad." You said before stealing his sunglasses from his face and running to the doors.

"Hey, GENTLE! They're Dita! VINTAGE!" He shouts.

You giggled as you tried to frantically slide your keycard into the scanner that unlocked the doors.

"I'm gonna tell the receptionist they're a gift!" You yelled back before rushing inside.

This makes your dad quicken his pace, rummaging his pocket for his keycard.

Peter had never seen Tony like this before. There was someone who was alive, very real, and actually had authority over him. His child. Peter slowly catches up to Tony who's waving his credit card around the sensor.

"Sir.. I don't think that's the right card." He mumbled.

Tony looked down at his gold card, his brain short-circuiting for a moment.

After composing himself and taking out the correct card, Tony almost flung the door open, his eyes locked to you leaning over the front desk.

"Y/N!"

You turned around, the sunglasses nowhere to be found.

"Yeah?" You tilted your head innocently.

The receptionist takes this opportunity to go back to her typing after you finally stopped talking her ear off. She wasn't wearing them either.

Peter stood awkwardly behind Tony. He stared at the high ceiling and the enormous fish tank that stretched across the wall with fish he had a hard time telling if they were real.

"Gotcha." You reveal the sunglasses behind your back, handing them back to your father.

"Not my style.. Also probably not her's either. Right, Erin?"

The receptionist only shoots you a glance, her fingers never stop clacking on the keyboard.

"Kid, this way." Tony sighed, gesturing Peter and following you to an elevator.

Peter shyly makes his way to the corner of the elevator and staring at the array of buttons. He's never been in a building with over five floors, let alone a hundred.

"So... What are we doing exactly?" You asked your father.

"I thought I'd give the kid a tour." Tony says while he scrolls through his phone.

Peter fiddles with his hoodie's strings, unable to make eye contact as he's being mentioned.

"Oh." Tony stops.

"What?" You asked warily.

"I need to approve something. Something either dumb and obvious or an array of important decisions." Tony looks through his missed calls and rings a number.

"Tour my ass." You mumbled.

If superheroes do anything, they double book. Constantly.

The elevator dings and you and Peter file out. You turn around and Tony doesn't step off.

"You've been promoted to tour guide. Okay bye." Tony closes the elevator doors and you watch him descend to a lower floor.

"I went from being a child of nepotism to a tour guide? I don't consider that a promotion."

Peter was visibly dumbfounded. He was intimidated by Tony by some degree yes, but he already knew him. He's never been to the tower, and now he's alone with his child that could make or break his reputation here.

"...Dude?" You wave your hand over his face. From your perspective, ever since your dad went downstairs, Peter had been blankly staring at the floor.

"Hm?" Peter's eyes didn't leave the floor.

"Wanna meet Dr. Banner?" You smiled. It reminded Peter of a cat that knew it was doing the wrong thing.

Something about your expression told Peter you wanted to bother Bruce more than you wanted to introduce Peter to him.

After a string of trailing after you in hallways that looked like they were from the future, you slid open the keypad, and rapidly drew a complex pattern into it.

"Hey Dr. B."

"Woah." Peter's eyes wander throughout Bruce's lab. Holograms fill a lot of empty space.

"Hey mini Stark, hand me that slide rack will you?"

You were all smiles. Peter could see you were finally in your element.

"What are you doing now?" You peer over Bruce's shoulder.

"Not too close, unless you wanna put on a coat and some goggles." He says, eyes locked on the microscope.

You immediately run back to the doors, a nervous Peter Parker blocking the coat hanger.

"C'mon Peter." You enthusiastically put on a lab coat and fasten the glasses over your face. Without hesitation, you put another pair on Peter's face and throw him a coat.

You grab him by the sleeve just as he put on the coat and run back to Bruce.

"Dr. Banner, this is Peter." You smiled.

Bruce looks up from his microscope and gives a small wave.

"From what I've seen, I think he might be one of us." You chuckled.

"...And maybe one of you guys." You give Peter a teasing smile.

Peter let out a small and odd noise before clearing his throat.

"Dr. Banner, I'm a huge fan." Peter gushes.

"Hey, show him your webs." You pull his sleeve back.

Bruce’s eyes studied the webshooters.

"He's the spider guy." You say proudly.

Peter tries not to shake uncontrollably from a mix of embarrassment and excitement.

"Oh.. You made these?" Bruce blinks curiously.

Peter nods and tries to conceal his growing smile.

“He’s one of you guys. I told you.” You wink at Peter, only for him to see.

“That’s… how? How did you make these?” Bruce chuckled in disbelief.

“Can I borrow your whiteboard?” Peter asks.

After writing down the entire formula for the polymer he used for his webs, Peter finally slouches over. His work takes up a majority of the board.

Bruce stares in awe of Peter’s creation.

“Basically this is it.” Peter scratches the back of his neck.

“Visit any time kid.” Bruce chuckled, speechless. He gives Peter a pat on the shoulder.

“How about a snack?” You asked Peter.

“If you’re gonna pass this little audition with my dad, you should probably know where the kitchen is.” You sighed, pulling the goggles off your face.

“Are you sure you’re not just hungry?” Peter asks.

“Oh, I finally got the boy to let his guard down? Telling jokes now huh?” You laughed.

Peter shakes his head, smiling to the floor.

“I just met Bruce Banner.”

“Mhm.” You trail down a long hallway, to a shiny pair of doors that stretched from the floor to the ceiling. The kind of doors Peter would visualize any person having a hard time opening.

Behind the doors was a kitchen area bigger than the living room of his apartment. The marble top island was like his dining table.

“Take anything.” You said casually, fetching two spoons from a drawer.

Peter walks in like he’s just attended his own surprise party. When he opened the pantry he didn’t expect a wall of snacks.

“I like these.” Peter points to the bag of mini reese’s cups.

“Then bring the bag dummy.” You snorted and opened the freezer.

“How about some ice cream?”

Peter and you somehow moved all your snacks to the balcony and you started tearing away at them almost immediately.

“You brought a lot.” Peter unwraps a peanut butter cup while you sink your spoon into your coffee ice cream.

“What are you hinting at man?” You give him a glare.

“NO! God, no I meant I don’t want to eat all this food, it’s- it’s not mine I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that.” By the end of Peter’s sentence he pops the candy in his mouth, defeated.

“I’m messing with you. Dig in. Seriously though Cap is on a new diet he found on this dumb blog. I never should’ve gave him an iPad for Christmas.” You rolled you eyes.

“It’s mostly my snacks now. Sometimes Natasha eats with me when I bother her enough.”

“Cap? Cap as in?” Peter knew the answer but needed a confirmation. There was no way he could be convinced he’s in the very building where all these heroes roam around.

“Captain America.”

“And Nat?”

“Oh, Black Widow.” You say in a sultry voice.

“That’s my lady. We watch dumb movies when I come around here.” You added.

“That’s.. wow. You see them often?” Peter takes a spoon and digs into the ice cream too.

“I guess.” You shrugged.

“Just so you know, they’re all lame like me. Not as cool as you think.” You grinned at the memories you had of them hanging around.

Peter shook his head.

“You’re not lame. You’re cool. I don’t think anyone else can mess with Tony Stark like you can.” Peter chuckled.

You look down and take another scoop of ice cream.

“…Not that he’s the only reason why you’re cool. You’re so smart and really funny.” And really pretty. But he wasn’t going to say that.

“Thanks. You’re pretty cool too.”

Peter let out a dry laugh.

“No. I’m not. You should see me at school seriously. It varies from being invisible to being a-”

“Don’t call yourself a loser or a nerd before I do a flip off this balcony.” You groaned.

“Besides, what’s a nerd if not a person in the wrong environment?” You give him a nudge.

“This is an environment where nerds thrive… And the occasional superhuman.” You added.

“Then why aren’t you getting recruited possibly, like I am?” Peter asked.

“My parents won’t ever let that happen.” You sighed, opening a bag of spicy chips.

“Maybe in the future, I’ll be one of these guys, we’ll be older, and we can convince your parents.” He said.

“You’re so innocent.” You laughed. “But yeah. If you somehow land a spot here, you have to help me get in too.”

Peter held out his pinky.

“..What are you doing?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I…pinky promise.” Peter held a stern expression. For the world’s best tour guide, he was willing to keep his word.

“Okay, swear?” You held out your pinky.

“Swear.”

[apocalypse-shuffle]

AGATHA HARKNESS (mcu | agatha all along)

—

“A Witch’s Bargain” (Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader) and (mentioned Rio Vidal x Fem!Reader)

| Once you find out a witch as infamous and powerful as Agatha is seeking you out you decide to go to her before she can pull one over on you; an attempt was made.

| SFW, obeah, flirting, hints at immortality, reader has something going on with both Agatha and Rio, -caribbean!reader & witch!reader

| pic source: Agatha All Along (2024)

| Note, the Reader-Insert is speaking with an accent but I didn’t write the particulars of it down bcs that would’ve been a lot to parse through even for me. Also, happy less-than-forty days till Halloween!

| 2k+ words

“Oh my,” you drawl, leant back against a large tree near Westview’s local psychic shop and nearly lost in its shadow, “this is…underwhelming.”

A whopping three people — only two witches, one of which was currently powerless — pause in front of you on the sidewalk, your words ringing even truer at the way the boy amongst them jumps at your abrupt entrance.

Lips pursed, you look him up and down with little favor. If this was to be the makings of Agatha Harkness’s “great coven” the pickings truly must’ve been slim.

The very witch you came to see turns to you, her hair falling into her face with the movement like she’s in some big brand shampoo commercial. Without another word, you watch on with an opposing stillness, your heart remaining steady.

Interesting.

For a woman you’d all thought dead Agatha looked well. Hair not clumpy, skin not worn or leathery. Even the way she held herself still bellied her comfort in mysticism, even dressed like a modern day woman as she was.

“Mm,” she hums shortly, turning in place with a few unhurried steps until she can cast narrowed eyes onto her apparent newest tag-along. Matching her stare head on you lean into the sun’s light a little more, your own thick curls brushing across a few low hanging branches where your hair is wrapped in cloth atop your head. “I don’t recall asking for an Obeah Woman,” she announces, tone bitingly light.

A scoff falls past your lips.

“And I didn’t expect the whispers for a coven would lead me to you, like this,” you twitch, letting your smile spread your plush lips thin, “broken and without your gifts.”

“I wouldn’t test me, New Girl,” she parries, and you hold your palms up in surrender.

Though your expression doesn’t sober.

The smile that rises to match your own in response to that is lopsided and sharp. Years worth of condescension she’d grown too used to falling back on without caution due to the magic coursing through her coming to the surface.

Agatha Harkness’s name in whispers had sent you into a fit at first — a witch of her caliber and age with your name on her mind never meant good — but looking at her now you could only tilt your head.

On the other hand, the boy with her seems eager to shake apart with laughter that grinds upon your nerves. Luckily, one look from the Salem veteran keeps him quiet.

Mostly.

In seconds she too is cackling, however — the boy’s muffled laughter acting as background noise — and you don’t bother stopping your sneer then.

“Oh, I see. You think you're hot shit,” she draws out, voice dropping an octave. “Don’t you operate a failing apothecary out of your apartment?”

Lips flattening, you step from the shadow, your face fixed without obvious malice to the best of your ability.

“It’s a side hustle,” you sniff. “And still better than being sentenced to 100 lashes and persecuted by the Danish; if I ever see the inside of a Christianshavn prison again I’ll frig up more than a few rum distilleries.”

“Of course. Now you just get persecuted by American Authority instead,” she says, the cut of her mouth sly.

With a flourish you wave her off. “Wretched as your worry is, it’s unneeded. Poison is no different than an elixir when you make it backwards.”

“Okay,” she simpers, shrugging herself, voice light and eyes never straying from your form as you glide closer over the concrete.

Powerless or not, something beneficial could surely come of making the occasional acquaintance of such a renowned woman.

Movement in your peripherals catches your attention though, and you stop moving to turn your head to find who you can only assume is the cause of your blight today.

Your sneer situates itself right back over your lips.

“Lilia,” you announce, the woman stops in her tracks and cuts you a brazen look out of the corner of her eyes. You take caution to only let your molars grind together for a second, releasing the tension in increments as your gaze narrows on her and you stand taller. “I should cut you down where you stand.”

The psychic huffs, shawl sliding a bit down the slope of her shoulder.

Slowly pulling the covering back into place she tuts at you, “Or…you could not. I mean, let’s face it, you would’ve been drawn here regardless of if I gave Agatha your name.”

“Unlikely,” you snap, words ground out like you’d rather spit on her than keep to something so civil as using mere words to express yourself.

And you would if you weren’t in such mixed company. Lilia was only meek when she was playing some angle after all.

You didn’t like anyone else making your moves for you, forcing you to speed up your timeline. Your own plans be damned.

“Witches, witches!” Agatha cuts in, holding her hands out to keep you and the psychic apart despite the way she’s only looking your way. “Let’s not tear each other apart just yet, hm?”

She eyes you from head to toe, taking her time to pan down as she takes in your flowing clothing and lightly clacking beads, before giving you a wicked look. “We wouldn’t want to mar anything too pristine before things really get interesting, now would we?”

Knocking your gaze to Lilia for a second you clock how she initially meets your glower, but keep your gaze steady regardless, just up until she finally twitches in discomfort. Only then do you ease up, tossing a grimace of a smile her way, before watching Agatha closely once more as the psychic wanders off somewhere out of sight with a few muttered curses you pay no mind to.

Meanwhile, Agatha’s expression has changed, having lost its begrudging appraisal and turned furrowed.

You raise your brows, “Harkness?”

She squints, obscuring fine cut hazel.

“I know you, don’t I?”

“Ah,” you grin without teeth, shoulders shaking, “so you can’t tell your porridge from your oats either I see.”

She rolls her eyes.

“The ‘wise sage’ act is very annoying, I have to tell you. It’s really ruining an otherwise beautiful package and I think you should work on that.”

“Should I?”

“That’s what I just said.”

“Oh, alright,” you examine your bare nails, twisting your wrist this way and that to get a ‘better’ view of your cuticles, “you’ll have to put the request in with my secretary first, though, I fear.”

Agatha’s pet’s head pops up from over her shoulder, his face screwed up, “You have a secretary? …No offense.”

Sighing, you drop your hand back to your side and make a point of rolling your eyes hard enough to nearly make yourself dizzy.

“No. I don’t,” you tell him finally, though you don’t look away from the actual witch in front of you even as you do.

Immediately after you raise your brow at Agatha, however, “As for you, you know full well that I’m better than any sage, and that passing me up would be a waste when you need a potion maker. Regardless, no we haven’t met, but your backside is just as unpleasant as people describe.”

“Hm,” she hums in agreement, moving to toss her round brunette curls around to her back with a wink in your direction, “unpleasantly beautiful, you might say.”

“Worthless more like it,” you correct.

Agatha stops putting on her little show so quickly you might as well have just lashed her across the face.

Briefly, her eye spasms, “Watch it.”

“I might,” you say, “so long as you prove me wrong. Now, if we could get back on track.”

“Huh,” she scoffs, glaring at you now. “Fine. How bout’ this, unless you can make an elixir to make me invincible from every witch closing in on me, then scram. I’m dealing with enough ameatures as is.”

Head thrown back for a second, you laugh, letting your fervor echo throughout Lilia’s forever vacant parking lot.

“Oh, make no mistake, Harkness, I can do that...” you say eventually, voice easy in a way that gives the other woman pause. You jerk a brow up, briefly mirroring the way her interest seems to physically jump up to stare at you, “…for a price.”

Gaze finally brightening she moves to knock her male companion on the shoulder, gesturing your way afterwards before plastering a much “nicer” smile on her face.

“Teen’s got the money. Give the woman whatever she wants, come on.”

“Oh no, I don’t want money,” you cut in with a flick of your hand at the grabble she’s making for the boy’s wallet.

Agatha pauses in the middle of silently arguing with Teen, glancing your way from her slightly bent position.

“—You don’t?”

“I might not call myself a witch, but that in no way means I’m confused as to what you witch them does do.” You get closer to her, and how she straightens to meet your advance makes you preen. “I want a favor. A binding one.”

“As if,” the boy cuts in with, “A witch of her caliber doesn’t do binding spells, they’ll only hinder her.”

Oh my—

“You well fucking rude,” you say distastefully, giving him a harsh look. Irritatingly, his forward ass only lays his hand over his heart with a gasp.

For her part all Agatha does is laugh, knocking you lightly on the shoulder as if you’ve told a particularly funny joke, and taking you right out of your stare down. “You’re lucky you’re pretty, Dear. Cause you sure are delusional.”

She snorts.

You suck your teeth.

This back and forth routine was getting far more tiresome than you’d anticipated.

“The only lucky one here is you,” you deadpan.

She opens her mouth to respond, that same dismissal in the curve of her mouth, but then pauses. Expression twitching, she leans even closer to you to inhale.

Frowning, you pull your upper half away from her.

“What—?”

“—I should’ve known,” Agatha exclaims lowly, pointing her finger at you. “You reek of her plague, that's why you seemed so familiar. What have you been dabbling in, I wonder, to smell so thoroughly of Rio? Joining her plot against me?”

You shake your head, looking away from her. You’d only hung around Vidal for the same reasons you were hanging around Agatha: to gain connections and, better still, favors you could cash in on if you ever found yourself in a bind due to your own ventures.

You hadn’t been lying earlier when you’d said you’d start making drastic moves if you saw the inside of a cell again, you didn’t care where it was. You’d burn it all down until they had to put you down before you’d waste away imprisoned ever again.

“Absolutely not. Whatever melee that went down between you two is yours alone. All I’m worrying about is my deal.”

To the displeasure of your heightening pulse, however, Agatha doesn’t just look passingly interested or even admiring any longer. She looks like she’s been given a puzzle, and like she likes it.

“Too late,” she chirps, fluttering her lashes, “Rio is far too picky about the company she keeps alive for your involvement to be left unexplored.”

Hand coming up, she runs her nails along your jaw. You stave off a flinch from the ticklish sensation her touch elicits. “You’ve taken on too potent a poison, Darling, situating yourself in the middle of our fight,” Agatha finishes, clicking her tongue, before walking her digits back up the umber expanse of your skin to press the pads of them into the hinge of your jaw.

You swallow roughly, hope she can’t hear it.

Agatha smiles, pressing in until she can force you to meet her eyes again. They’re roving, almost manic when paired with her smile.

“Yes,” she breathes, eyes alight. “Maybe I do need an Obeah Woman after all. We’ll be going to the Witch’s Road, won’t you come with?”

No. It’s on the tip of your tongue. The feel of Rio’s blackened energy still a hot, sizzling brand across your lips.

One deal had been made already, yes, but were you sure about pursuing this one as well with the inevitability of getting caught in the middle of a centuries old rivalry so probable?

Unfortunately, your, “Fine,” slips past your lips before you can stop yourself, and rather than deal with the indignity of walking your agreement back you stay quiet.

Watching for her move. Reasoning with yourself that there were still benefits here despite this new hiccup, if only you played your cards right.

She doesn’t make you wait long.

A shiver rises over you as her presence does the same, her steps carrying her till there’s hardly a whisper between your bodies. Even without her magic, being this close to Agatha Harkness allowed her to snake herself across your soul same as Rio Vidal had when you’d also unintentionally peaked her curiosity a while back.

“Wonderful,” she coos, the pad of her thumb gliding up your cheekbone as her hazel bores deep into your brown, “let’s see about that deal then.”

Dammit to hell; this had better be worth whatever Agatha and Rio’s combined interest would do to you.

NOTES: Hope you enjoyed!!

Fun fact, actually, I wrote this when I’d only watched episode two up until Agatha and Teen left Lilia’s place, and so didn’t know that Jen (gorgeous as she is) would be who they went to for poisons (or that that was in any way a requirement in the first place) so that was a fun little coincidence. Otherwise, the setting of this oneshot I just pulled out of my ass fr.

Also, character motivations are a bit funky but I can’t pinpoint the exact reason and really want to post this tonight so we’ll all have to deal.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it!

—

Caribbean word of the day (i.e.,the glossary): “Frig” - an alternative way to say ‘fuck’. so ‘frig up’ = ‘fuck up’.

“Melee” - drama or gossip.

*remember, though, that dialects are regional so the words in this glossary aren’t used by every caribbean* 

EDITED: 9/26/24 & 10/26/24 (after s1ep7 I’m even more in love w/ Rio now)

[andy-wm]

I have thoughts on Jimin's SGMB

It's the gayest thing I've ever seen.

And by that I mean it's joyous, light-hearted, bright, and fun.

We can all agree, I think, that this is a happy and totally harmless song. Who could criticise Jimin for declaring his love in such a sweet and innocent way?

Of course not everyone will like it, and that's fine. You don't have to like everything he does - or everything BTS does - you are an individual with thoughts and feelings of your own - I hope. But putting that aside you'd have to be a troubled person indeed to take offence at anything here.

So, it is definitely a fan song, right? Jimin is singing to his fans... isn't he?

Maybe.

But if it is (I and I'm not convinced) it's not just a fan song.

It's sweet, so sweet, but....

Maybe it's a little too sweet?

We know Jimin is CUTIE SEXY LOVELY and LOVELY LOVELY LOVELY, but let's be honest, he's also a grown man. And Army are not children (mostly). In fact we have had many many conversations about how ARMY are not children.

But this whole production is pushing the sweet and innocent barrow so hard that I can't help wanting to look underneath and behind and inside to see what's really going on because it's so sweet it's hurting my teeth.

Compare the sophistication and self awareness of FACE to the bouncy, bright and child-like song-and-dance in the SGMB music video. They are WORLDS apart and we were told very specifically that the albums were linked.

"Following his first solo album, “FACE,” where he sought to explore his true identity, “MUSE” documents his journey in search of the source of his inspiration." said the Weverse notification.

So what's really going on here?

What are you doing Jiminie?

And more importantly, why are you doing it?

You could call it a pageant, or a carnival, or a circus - with Jimin as the ringmaster.

But my view is:

This a pantomime. And it's very clever.

According to the Oxford Dictionary, a pantomime is "A dramatic entertainment,  originating in Roman mime, in which  performers express meaning through  gestures  accompanied by music." Yes, that describes it.

Merriam-Webster tells us "[A pantomime] is an ancient Roman dramatic performance featuring a solo dancer and a narrative chorus" That also makes sense.

Oxford also specified that it's a modern BRITISH tradition. "a theatrical entertainment, mainly for children, which involves music, topical jokes, and slapstick comedy." It's a perfect fit.

The British link is already there - Jimin clearly told us he's influenced by The Beatles' Sergeant Peppers Album. There's also the styling of his suit. The stovepipe pants, narrow tie, and fitted jacket are very 1960s (and 1980s) British pop.

There's something old-school about a pantomime. It harks back to childhood, and to the nostalgia of holidays. And the styling of the MV is in keeping with that nostalgic feel too - from the Mountain scene with the vintage film title, to the intertitles - or title cards , to the circular frame of the opening scene.

But back to the Pantomime itself...

A quick google search told me the following are important elements of pantomime. And we have most, if not all of them in this production.

Gender role reversal - TICK

Slapstick comedy - TICK

Colourful costumes - TICK

Audience participation - TICK (the children ARE the audience)

Exaggerated facial expressions - TICK

Take another look at the music video - it's all there.

Wikipedia tells us that pantomimes traditional told fairy tales or folk tales - often love stories - and that the primary role in a Pantomime was:

The 'Principal boy', a hero or charismatic rogue, traditionally played by a young woman in men's clothing.

Smart, very smart. With all the other conversations we've been having a round gender this is totally on the money.

Wikipedia goes on to say "Another pantomime tradition is to engage celebrity guest stars... Contemporary pantomime productions are often adapted to allow the star to showcase their well-known act.... If the star enters into the spirit of the entertainment, he or she likely adds to its overall effect"

Welcome, Loco.

(yes, I know collabs are de rigueur, but that doesn't change the fact that it fits - celeb guests are an established practice in Panto.)

So if this IS a Pantomime (and I'm not saying it definitely is but it looks like one to me), then it's intended to be a sung-story, told as much through dance and gestures as through words.

If it's a pantomime, what is it about?

I'm glad you asked! This little charade is the story of a young person called Jimin who is looking for love. He finds romance easily enough...

but real love takes a little longer.

Fortunately for our hero, he's brave (he will confess to his lover) and he is patient (he encourages them to do so too).

In between, there are shenanigans and goofing...

But our Charismatic Rogue is charming (if devilish) and wins the hearts of the audience - and his lover.

Let's take a closer look at how the story unfolds...

At the start of the MV, as the initial credits appear, Jimin is on stage vibing with his band. Loco is chilling on a rock like a lizard in the sun.

We get the ye olde intertitles, welcoming the audience and introducing.... SMERALDO Garden Marching Band

It's not Smeraldo Garden - Marching Band. It's Smeraldo *pause* Garden Marching Band. Smeraldo (secrets) has the emphasis.

After the intertitles, the scene opens on a group of children - they are ostensibly the audience of the band. They're playing paper-scissors-rock to see who will call for Jimin's attention.

The children run over to him and the tale begins.

Jimin, the main character of this story, immediately launches into song.

He starts off singing about Bangtan - mentioning their harmony (song and personal I think), he shows the Bangtan hand gesture we all know so well, and he sings "we gift happiness every day".

But he mentions June 12th.

Why June 12th?

Why not 13th, their debut day?

BECAUSE THIS IS NOT A SONG for ARMY. He's making it clear that at this point he's referring to Bangtan specifically, not the whole juggernaut of the fandom and fame. June 12th precedes ARMY.

He's made it clear from the start - this is NOT ABOUT ARMY.

Then he leans in and whispers to the children - and the camera -"lets talk about us".

Look at the kids' faces - they're miming shock. Ooooohhh! This is a big secret he's about to tell them - and us.

Look at Jimin's expression - he's just a tad smug. This is not a shocking secret to him, this is a fun secret.

Yes, he is indeed the charismatic rogue of this story.

He sings:

"All the things we couldn't say before

And your hidden feelings too (just for you)

Don't you worry anymore

Since we're together now**

Let's be a little more honest."

So it seems our main character has a LOVER. Someone who couldn't be revealed and who hid their feelings.

<Wow, I have no idea who this could be...>

Hang on, what's happening in the MV??

On his journey, it seems our young hero has a few short-lived romances. And if you look carefully, they are all with men.

He accepts the rose from a man, and plants himself on the bench right up close to .... a man. He jumps up unperturbed, and gifts the rose to (you guessed it) another man.

Jimin manages to sidestep (or completely ignore) all the women except one, who he sends graciously into the arms of a random man before continuing on his journey.

Wait one moment... his romantic partners were ALL MEN??

ALL MEN??

ALL MEN?!!!!!

Yes darling, all men. Let's continue.

So, it seems none of Jimin's previous romances grew into anything more, but he takes his own advice with his mysterious lover and confesses first.

He smirks. He flicks his jacket with pizzazz. He's ready.

He sings:

"Ooooh I love you babe,

I'll come closer to you

I want to hold your hand,

I want you babe (yessir)

Please note the hand gesture in this choreo - it's another one we've seen many times.

The dance ends and Jimin scans the surroundings and spots his old friend...

[Enter stage left: Loco]

Oh look, the friend is a rapper a few years older than Jimin. They seem to have a lot of fun together, Jimin and his rapper friend. There are ZERO romantic overtones here. This guy happily goes along with all the goofing and silliness even though he looks a tiny bit mortified. Either they are both very good actors, or a lot of the time, Loco was holding in his laughter. And Jimin seems incredibly amused by that.

They hang out together until.... something in the atmosphere changes:

The colours become richer, light become warmer, and oh look....

It's *The Golden Hour*

I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP, PEOPLE. HE REALLY DID THIS.

Jimin leaves Loco, chasing the golden light as he sings about "the dazzling sky." Golden confetti (champagne, anyone?) falls all around him and then ...

fucking sunflowers bloom.

SUN FLOWERS.

BLOOM.

FOR HIM.

<I need to lie down and process this>

SUNflowers...

Remind me again what sunflowers are known for? Oh yes, they are symbolic of the sun. Guess what else? They turn to face the sun.

Yup, the sunflowers all turn their faces toward the camera. I'm not crazy, okay?! I'm not.

SMH... let's move on.

Jimin re-joins his band, and the sunflowers do their sunflower thing, and Jimin sings:

"So tell me how you feel,

let whatever you feel

wash over you"

Then he sings

"I love you babe, (yessir)

I'll come closer to you

I want to hold your hand,

I want you babe (yessir)

Please note the hand gesture again

👉 👈

The bridge is next, and Jimin takes us back to Bangtan. As all the stars appear (that ocean of purple light that surrounds them at concerts) and everyone takes their place on stage, they turn up the music. <Are my eyes watering? Perhaps>

"I think we're ready now

<NGL I may have shed a tear here>

Lets begin 1, 2

<Ok fuck, I bawled at this point. Goddammit Jimin!>

Put your hands up"

*cute wiggle-dance commences* and Jimin spots his good friend the rapper again, hiding on the sidelines. He pulls him into the chorus line and they do more silliness and everyone is having a great time.

Confetti- flower petals fall, there's laughter and happiness all around, and they bow and bid us good bye.

The show is over.

*THE END*

But wait, I am not done.

A few more things bear mentioning here:

I saw quite a few comments saying this song is for ARMY.

It is categorically NOT for ARMY. Besides the fact that we already have Closer Than This - a fan song - on this album, Jimin specifically chose a date before debut - before ARMY existed - to place in this song. No mention of ARMY at all. Accept it graciously, this is not for you.

I wanna hold your hand

This lyric is a reference not only to the Beatles song "I Want to Hold Your Hand", It's also a common theme with Jimin and Jungkook. We see them finding any feeble excuse to hold hands, shake hands, touch hands. Yes, we see you two...

I am you, You are me

The gesture used in the choreo when Jimin is singing his confession - I failed miserably to catch it in my screengrab but there's no doubt it's their "I am you, You are me" gesture. Take a look for yourself.

All Jimin's romantic moments happened with men.

I'm not saying in his life, I am saying in this MV. All of them. The only interaction he has with a woman is one brief moment where he grabs her wrist as she passes by and he swings her into the path of a guy behind him. He even scoots around the women and sidesteps them. That can't be accidental. He's making a point.

The addition of 'yessir' in the lyrics makes it clear that he's confessing to a man.

I cannot see any reasonable way to refute this. The BH subtitles include it even though you have to listen carefully to catch it. THAT IS A CHOICE, NOT AN ACCIDENT.

"Even though we're together now"

These lyrics could mean theyre an established, committed couple. But if we think a little broader than that, and a little more literally, who is he together with right now?

It's strategically brilliant.

This is his 'tell all expose' but he has built in a rock solid escape clause by using the panto format. Staging the whole love story - including the prior boyfriends and the man he's now in love with - as an over the top comedy show makes it easily dismissible as pure fiction. By including the fantasy/magical elements he just makes it more so. Deniers will be able to come up with a dozen reasons to reject this... 'It's a fantasy story', 'not all songs are autobiographical', 'he's making a point', 'he's raising LGBTQIA+ awareness'... all true maybe, but that doesn't change the fact that this is HIS song, about HIS muse. If you've been paying attention (and even if you haven't) you will know this is certainly not pure fiction.

AND FINALLY....

The most important one, I left till last. I actually want to scream this, in all caps, in the biggest font possible. But I will restrain myself.

The song is bookended by references to BTS.

That is hugely important. For those who may not be aware, this is a literary device. Bookending a story provides a start and end reference point. Here, the Bangtan bookends provide context for the rest of the lyrics - they frame the lyrics within them. That means the events happening in the song, happen within the context of Bangtan. Reading between the lines, the person he is singing to/about is within Bangtan.

This is not reaching. This is like mixing blue paint and yellow paint together. You will get green paint.

💛+💙=💚

So yes, this song is the gayest thing I've ever seen.

And I DO mean it's joyous, light-hearted, bright, and fun.

But yes, it's also absolutely and totally really really GAY

🏳️‍🌈🐥🦄🌈🏳️‍⚧️🌻🐰☀️🏳️‍🌈

Thank you Jiminie

[nothomegal]

"Nothing, just (Y/N)"

(Pyramid Head(s) x GN! Reader NSFW)

Minors do NOT interact!

Summary: wondering through abandoned semi-ruined places is great to hide and get lost, and in your case the latest happened. But don't worry! Because you were lucky enough to bump into your lover... Or not. Whoever, or whatever this is, it really looks like your monster, yet it's different at the same time... Huh, I wonder what will happen when these two do meet face to face... Huh, I wonder what verdict awaits you.

Warnings: non-con touches at first, brief mentions of nipple play, oral (Pyra receiving), references to double penetrations (but you can interpretate it differently since the reader is gender neutral).

Word Count: 3.9k

This idea popped up after I remembered that Pyramid Head has two different designs (one that appears in DBD and Silent Hill 2, and the other one from the movie and Silent Hill Homecoming, y'know where he has a more pointy helmet and exposed torso)

I usually describe the DBD/original version (though my dummy self been using gifs with the other design hashsha). But still, why don't we present our lil' (Y/N) the other one? 🤭

They’re lost. (Y/N) let out a long tired sigh as they keep walking through the long dark hallway of what appears to be a school.

They begin to regret their decision of going deeper, it probably would’ve been smarter to just chill in one of the classes until the ‘newcomers’ leave the area, buut… Uh, last time they hid in a room they ended up kidnapped by the group they tried to avoid so yeah… Not really a fan to repeat that experience.

The school was dead silent most of the time, apart from the sound of their footsteps or the occasional shuffle or hiss from a Creeper. For anyone new, this would be an unnerving place, but for (Y/N)? Oh they’re chilling with the peace n’ quiet around them. Sure, silence is not always associated with safety and there is always the possibility of something lurking in the dark and waiting for the perfect moment to attack. But in (Y/N)’s case it’s not possible, no creature is dumb enough to even get close to them, not to mention hurting. They can’t help but to chuckle to themselves, they’ve been in this place for quite a while, probably months, maybe even a year! Or two? And no matter how much time passed or will pass, they still can’t believe the fact that one of the most fearsome creatures of Silent Hill took them under his wing, keeping them safe and making them feel something more than just a piece of flesh to use or kill.

Sigh, they probably have the dumbest lovesick face they’ve ever made, like some teenager thinking about his crush, but can you really blame them? Who the hell wouldn’t get all giddy with a creature like Pyra? And speaking of him, they probably should find an exit faster before he gets tired of looking for them and just tanks his way through the building-.

Or maybe not, because the sound of metal scraping the old tiled floor of the school and the erratic heavy footsteps resonated from one of the hallways. Huh, each day they start to believe that they somehow summon Pyra just by thinking about him for long enough.

With a little smile (Y/N) makes their way towards the sounds, happy to have their lover back with them after him completing his hunt and punishment.

–”Hey big guy! Sorry for the trouble of having to look for me in here. Just wanted to avoid the incident from the last ti- ”–

(Y/N)’s voice died and they froze in place when they met the source of the sound. Yes, it was the known pyramid headed beast, but… It wasn’t their pyramid headed beast, it wasn’t Pyra.

The monster in front of them was different; his vest, which appeared to be stitched,  was only covering everything below the waist, leaving the torso completely exposed. The helmet was different too, it was more… Pointy? The edges were sharper and the shape was more triangular and detailed with additional metallic pieces.

This other beast and (Y/N) remain completely still, staring at each other in heavy silence, the monster’s metallic breathing being the only audible thing. (Y/N) gulps nervously, both confused and afraid. What the… Who is this creature?! Why does it look almost like Pyra?! Is this another executioner? Wasn’t Pyra the only one? Are there more monsters like him? Then why did they never see it before?!

Their internal freak out paused then the other beast let out the familiar low metallic rumbling, which wasn’t as low and deep as the one Pyra emitted, but that fact didn’t make the sound any less intimidating, especially when the monster seemed to grip the handle of his large knife tighter.

–”W-Wrong executioner, m-my bad!”– you peep out before taking off running.

They sprint down the hallway, their adrenaline skyrocketing when they hear the known bulky footsteps and scraping noises behind them. They haven’t felt this much terror since being chased by Pyra himself. Sure the group of shady men was scary too but their demise was inevitable. In the case with Pyra… Well, if the executioner chooses you as his target, there is no chance to escape your fate, only delay it.

But- But this time it will be different, right? Their Pyra is still somewhere around, right? It’s unclear what they're hoping for, or what they want to happen when both beasts face each other. All (Y/N) knows is that the true safety has always been in Pyra’s arms, and they have no other option but to go there if they want to have the slimmest chance to survive this chase.

Despite trying to find the exit, it feel like they only get themselves deeper into the building, all hallways and rooms appear to get darker and more rotten, it's like they're decending deeper into hell, closer to their demise, further from their salvation...

But the light of hope was recandled when while turning a corner (Y/N) bumped face first into a firm and broad torso, which didn't even budge at the impact while they already had landed on the floor right on their butt. They rub their nose after the impact and shoot their gaze up, their heart almost jumping through their rib cage after recognizing the known pyramidal shape of the creature’s head, thinking that the beast chasing after them somehow outsmarted their panicked brain. But when the creature kneeled down they instantly relaxed as relief flushed through them, despite the monster’s large form menacingly towering over them and engulfing their smaller frame with its shadow.

–”Pyra!”– you exclaim both happy and relieved as you scramble right into his arms.

The monster instantly wrapped his large arms around (Y/N), his own body tensing up, as if feeling the distress of his human and knowing they’ve been chased by something, fact that clearly angered him. When the sounds of metal scraping the floor and slow heavy footsteps began to resonate from afar, (Y/N) tensed up even more.

–”Th-There it comes… It- That thing, it looks like you!”– you warn him as you grip his vest tighter.

Pyra remains still for a moment as the noises get closer. After a while, he slowly stands up to his full height, lifting (Y/N) with him and putting them back to their feet to then gently push them behind him. The mentioned person carefully peeks from behind his large form, both afraid but also curious to see if it’s really another creature like Pyra and it actually exists or they just officially went coconuts and somehow imagined it all. Their doubts were dissolved once the other creature appeared from around the corner, his pace slow and unhurried. The monster froze in place as he stared at them, Pyra froze too and stared back. The atmosphere suddenly turned… Weird, not tense and heavy as one would expect, just odd and bizarre.

Still, (Y/N) didn’t feel at ease at all. There is a reason humans fear the unknown, and that’s the main factor that keeps the mentioned person on high alert. They have absolutely no idea of what to expect to happen next, are these two about to fight? Will the other creature turn around and leave? Will it somehow change Pyra’s mind and he will kill them? Are they in danger? Should they run? Wait? Pray?

A breathless gasp escaped their lips when the other creature began to move, slowly making his way towards them two. What freaked and confused (Y/N) even more is the fact that Pyra doesn’t seem bothered by it at all, he remains still in his place with absolutely no intent to stop the other monster.

When the second beast got way too close for their liking, and Pyra was still doing nothing about it, (Y/N) let out a shaky breath out and stepped away from their lover to then begin to back away on their own.

–”No. N-No stop, that’s-...”– you swallow nervously as you shoot a pleading glance to your beast. –”Pyra…”–

But he doesn’t react to their pleas, he doesn’t even look at them… And when the other beast was right next to him is when he finally does move, slowly turning around, and just like the other executioner, he begins to slowly walk towards (Y/N) in the same menacing manner, not like they’re his lover, but another victim to punish…

This scene broke (Y/N)’s heart into numerous tiny pieces, is… Is that it? Is Pyra really going to just… Kill them here and now? After all this time they’ve been together he… He’s just going to throw all that away like it’s nothing? Like they are nothing?... Silly them, of course he will, he’s Pyramid Head, the executioner, an immortal and eternal being created to punish and kill. Who are they to him?... They are nothing, just a little meaningless human… Just (Y/N).

The moment their back collides with a wall, their survival instincts kick in. Even though deep down they knew that their fate is practically written on their forehead, their mind was focused on the most primal desire that a human can have in case of facing danger; run away.

And so they do, they obey their instincts. When they notice an opening between the other monster’s large body and a wall to squeeze through, they bold forward with no care in the world and miraculously dodging his arm that attempted to grab and stop them from escaping. They let out a breathless chuckle out of shock that they actually managed to dodge that by ducking, such a silly maneuver actually wor-.

Suddenly something gets a hold of the back of their shirt and yoinks them back, right against Pyra himself. He holds them tightly against his chest, one arm being more than enough to keep the panicked human in place despite all the desperate struggles to break free. (Y/N) is beyond terrified now, they feel Pyra’s arm tighten around them while the other one gets so close that he ends up pressing his body against their front. Now being basically sandwiched and completely immobile, (Y/N) is feeling like passing out at any second. In any other occasion they’d be so flustered and aroused by this, but now? Oh their poor mind is being flooded with terrible images of how the two executioners will end them, the newer thought worse than the previous one. They’re shivering like crazy, eyes shut tightly, waiting for the wave of pain to come as the monsters will begin to skin them alive…

But after nothing happening for a solid minute, (Y/N) gathers enough courage to finally open their eyes and see what’s going on and why these two beasts are not doing anything. The instant they peek up, the two monsters let out that famous amused rumble, which due to the closeness, made (Y/N)’s whole body vibrate, super weird (and kinda pleasant) feeling.

(Y/N) was about to yell in anger, thinking that these two are seeing their fear and pain of the betrayal as something funny, but such chance was lost the moment they began to feel big hands roam around their body, caressing and feeling every curve through their clothes. The gesture wasn’t aggressive or mocking, but affectionate and loving, just like Pyra’s actions towards them on a daily basis.

Now (Y/N) is confused and quite dumbfounded. Didn’t these two have the intention to murder them? Why is this other monster suddenly so docile? Are they truly safe? Wha-

A shiver ran through their body when the executioner in front of them managed to slip his hand under their shirt, tracing the rough yet warm skin of his bare palm through the softer skin of their abdomen and chest. They let out a surprised squeak when the hand reached higher and brushed against their nipple, the contact causing (Y/N)'s body to shiver, and it only got worse when the beast began to rub it as it let out an amused purr. Another whimper escaped their mouth when Pyra’s hand made its way through their inner thigh, squeezing and rubbing their flesh gently until it stopped right between their legs, his movements getting progressively bolder and suggestive with each little sound that left that pretty mouth of theirs. (Y/N)’s eyes widened as they realized what the two monsters are trying to initiate.

–”Wa-Wait no-! I- I’m- I’m n-not ready for th-this!”– you stammer nervously as you try to clumsily wiggle out their grasp, face already red and flustered. –”You- You two s-sto-!”–

They have no chance to even finish the sentence as something warm and wet suddenly entered their mouth, making contact with their own tongue, which suddenly turned the action into some very sloppy kiss. Their struggles also lead to nothing, both monsters only squeezed them tighter against each other, reducing (Y/N)’s mobility even more. This continues for a couple of seconds, until the "kiss" finally stops and (Y/N) is finally allowed to breathe again, their mouth completely wetted with their and Pyra’s saliva. As they pant like a dog, trying to recatch their breath, they feel Pyra’s hand travel up to their face and wrap his hand around their face, rubbing their cheek lovingly as his tongue playfully wiggles in front of them.

(Y/N) suddenly gasps shakily as they feel something hard being pressed against their front and back, and by the way both monsters growled, they knew exactly what it was and what’s about to happen.

They shouldn't want this, they should try to get away and put a stop to this, they really should… But it’s hard, it’s hard to think straight when their mind has been poisoned with their own arousal and lust. Their logic side is saying no, but their whole body and most of their mind is screaming yes.

As if reading their mind, both monsters made a pleased sound and the next thing they know is that their body was swung over Pyra’s shoulder and taken somewhere... But it didn’t mean they wouldn’t get completely blown up in a moment, and Pyra’s big hand squeezing their ass and thighs is a reminder of that. They’re then brought into one of the classrooms of the school and their body is placed on one of the tables, just like the little delicious treat they were.

From their spot, (Y/N) stares at the two beasts with half lidded eyes and lovesick gaze. It’s like being under some sort of spell whenever things get heated between them and Pyra, and now that there are two of them? Oh, it’s like being hypnotized to act like a slave of their own lustful desires.

The two monsters were kind enough to actually undress (Y/N) (instead of destroying their clothes). And now, fully exposed and being in all fours, they silently observes as both executioners position themselves. The other beast is right behind them, one hand placed on their hips and the other one pulling down his vest, revealing an already fully erect and hard cock, tip brushing along their skin, making them shiver in anticipation. Pyra was right in front of them, vest fully opened and pants pulled down too, his cock just as erect and needy for his sweet lover, one gloved hand placed under their chin as his thumb rubs their cheek and lips lovingly, as if saying “you’ll do such a good job drear”.

The calm lasts for a couple more seconds… And then the whole world goes down without a warning. The beast from behind slams his whole length almost and ones, barely giving (Y/N) time to adjust to his size. Pyra also nearly choked them when he pushed the tip and part of his cock into (Y/N)’s mouth, but he was kind enough to wipe their tears of pain and pleasure.

This was both a torture and a treasure, the roughness and feral neediness of these monsters made (Y/N) feel a certain type of way. The knowledge that two powerful beings craved for them, THEM, so so badly made them feel both very special and flustered, just what did the executioner see in them to make him want their body and soul so much? Crave for them both sexually and emotionally, want nothing but to be close to them and keep them to himself, not just like a trophy or a pet, but as something worth to worship.

And they did, they really felt oddly worshiped despite being absolutelly destroyed by them. Feeling the one from behind dig his fingers into their flesh as he pushes into them, trying to bring them closer to his own body with each thrust and the distorted rumbles and groans he makes when the contact between their skins is missing, even for a brief second, only proves how much he wants them close. Pyra was too showing the effect they had on him, saliva actively dripping from that little hole in his helmet where the tongue would come out, hand placed in the back of (Y/N)’s head as he fucks their mouth and throat, and the fact that he’s not thrusting with more force also proves the care he has for them. They both could be rougher, they both could be more selfish, they know they totally could destroy them if they really wanted to… But they actively chose not to, because even in this feral and lustful state they’re in, they care for them, they care for their little sweet (Y/N).

The action doesn’t last too long, as (Y/N) is barely holding themselves back from coming ,and eventually it got too much. The second the monster from behind felt their release, he let out a growl and quickened his pace. (Y/N)’s body began to shiver, wobbly limbs barely supporting their own weight due to the overwhelming feeling of fullness and the lack of oxygen, air they can hardly get since Pyra’s pace got faster as well. When they eventually collapsed, their body miraculously remained in place and it all thanks to the beast behind them, who caught them and held them up with a single large hand placed on their chest.

It was hard to keep up, hard to keep themselves from coming again, but they must refuse, must holdup, must wait for the two monsters fucking their brains out to come before allowing their own sweet release again. And just as they reached their absolute limit, so did the two beasts. The taste and the sensation of their release drunken (Y/N) completely, eyes rolling as they let out a weak muffled moan as they're sent both to heaven and hell at the same time, their inside burning and their skin shivering under the cold sweat.

Once done, Pyra takes his still hard cock out of (Y/N)’s mouth, allowing them to take all these needed gulps of air as the white liquid drips from their mouth and down their chin, even after trying to swallow it they still got messy, a picture that their lover absolutely adored.

Though (Y/N) was quite tired, they know this is not the end, this is just the beginning˜.

They let out a yelp when their body is suddenly lifted and their back is pressed against the solid and warm exposed torso of the beast behind them. The table they were previously on had been flung across the whole classroom with great force and the next thing they know is that they’re completely immobilized again by Pyra’s body pressing their form against the monster behind. And soon enough, (Y/N)’s mind is being turned into mush again when the beasts begin to move again, their thrusts strong and hitting all the sweet and most sensitive spots of theirs.

Their movements were unnaturally coordinated, knowing exactly when to thrust and how to move so their helmets won’t collide. It was both freaky and fascinating to see, which left (Y/N) thinking if Pyra is really as simple as they initially thought, or is he the embodiment of something way more sinister-.

Their thoughts melted into a mass of letters and blurry shapes at the sensation of the rough fingers of the beast from behind rub their sensible nipples again, sending violent jolts and shivers with the mildest movements. Now (Y/N) was a complete panting and moaning mess, though their sounds were slightly muffled by Pyra’s broad chest, even slightly suffocating them at times with how close he got (not like they mind it). They always cringed at how vocal they can get during sex but they also knew better than to try to quiet the noises after learning the hard way how much their monstruous lover adores to hear them.

This fucking continued for a good ammount of time, (Y/N) already lost count of how many times they came, they have absolutely no clue! All they know is that they’re like in heaven, seeing stars and impossible colors of light flash before their eyes with each release just to then fall back into their mortal body and suffer the consequences of all the overstimulation and the generally overwhelming sensations. How are they still awake and breathing? They have no idea, but it did kinda boost their ego to know they’re tougher than they thought.

Eventually, the thrusts come to an end after the two monsters came one last time, causing (Y/N) to hide their face deeper into Pyra’s chest as they sink their fingers into his flesh and scratch his scarred skin with their nails. Even after coming and filling them up real' good yet again, the executioners remained in place, not pulling away from (Y/N) and still holding them against each other.

After regaining part of their breath, (Y/N) pulls back and their eyes wide at the sight of all the marks they left along Pyra’s broad chest and abdomen, both scratch and bite marks. The executioner from behind also received some lovely scratches on his body as well, when did they even manage to make these? None of the monsters seemed bothered by the marks though, and their hands roaming over (Y/N)’s body is a clear confirmation of that, showing just how pleased they are with their performance, even if they didn’t really do anything.

Now that the heat is slowly dying (Y/N) should feel cold, yet the warm skin of the beasts keep them perfectly warm and comfortable, their big hands traveling around their body, soothing the growing soreness in their muscles and worshiping every inch of their soft and tender skin, despite it being covered in sweat and drops of their load.

(Y/N) wanted to cry, but not out of pain, but of how loved they felt in that moment. The surprisingly gentle and affectionate caressing, the soft purrs and rumbles that at times resembled praises, and the overall atmosphere among them three felt so overwhelmingly comforting and loving, nothing like the heated lustful air from moments before.

Tiredness and exhaustion made itself known and they began to slowly doze off. Luckily, they didn’t have to worry about having a pillow, the chest of the two monsters were a perfect replacement, so warm and kinda soft now that their bodies and muscles relaxed a bit.

Unknowingly to (Y/N), a little smile formed on their lips. Yes, they're still pretty much nothing compared to a creature like Pyramid Head, but the fact that this same creature, or in this case, creatures, are all over them, a simple little human, makes (Y/N) feel this alien thrill and warmth.

They're still just (Y/N) though.

Their (Y/N).

Ţ̴̡̤͕̝̱̙͎̗͓͎͔̤͍͍̺̖̣̥͇͔̺̖̬̑̅͆̅ͅͅ ̷̨̢̢̡̡̡̧̨̬̲͈̹̦̤̻̬̳͎̳͔̬̘̤̤͚̮͇̪̗͍̺̟̦̯̙͇͔͓͈̫̾̾̂̂̚͠H̸̪͇͚͙̫͇̯̆̚ ̵̧̜͔͎̙͈̦̥̣̥͕̅̆́̆̑͗̈͛̇̓̾̏̇̌͛̾̓̉̀͛̓͆̈́̇̃́̄́̑̊͐̎̍͊̂̈́͆̕̚͘͘͝͝Ȩ̵͈̟̜͓̥͙̣͙̲̤̰̫̟̭̲̪͔͖͇͉̩̗̩͕̮̲̳̼͖̜̳̙͗͒̓̀̊̊͋̿̉̿͜ͅͅ ̷̘̦̜̻͓̒̽͛̚͝Ì̴̡̧̡̧͓̭̝̥̱̻̦̻͔͙̜̳̘̣̘̻̗̫̮̬͖̝͕̬͕͕͐͋͋͆̔̂̍͌͑̏̌͌̚̚ͅ ̵̨̜̻̬̲̬̩̤̹̩̮͈̮̭͈̙̦̪͕͕̭̠̝̝̀̿̓̀̌̌͊̅ͅR̶̫̯̬͚͚̝̦͋͌͒͐̀̄͌̃̓̌̈́̉̄͐͆

[lefteagleblizzard]

ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲

Mike Munroe x male reader

Summary: In the eerie sanatorium halls, a Wendigo attack leaves you injured, pushing Mike's protective instincts into overdrive.

Tags: Male reader. He/him pronouns are used towards the reader. Mike and Jess are not together in this. Graphic description of injuries but not too deep. Angst. Happy ending. Heavy make out session.

You can consider this a part 2 of the fist fic i wrote for Mike but it can easily be read as a standalone. Thank you all so much for all the comments and likes on my first Mike Munroe story! Now I have an excuse to write more for him ☜(⌒▽⌒)☞

𝔗𝔴𝔬 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔬𝔤𝔢𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯

𝔄 𝔱𝔬𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔪𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔢

𝔍𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔶 𝔞𝔱 𝔅𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔨𝔴𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔐𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥

Words counts: 4000

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

The oppressive darkness of the sanatorium clung to every corner, the air thick with the stench of rot and decay. Your footsteps echoed faintly as you and Mike moved cautiously through the long, decaying hallway.

Mike was ahead, gritting his teeth as he wrestled with the stubborn door of the room that held a shotgun and ammunition inside. He was trying everything. Shouldering it, kickin it, using his weight to force it open, but it wouldn't budge. The door was rusted and seemed to be mocking his attempts to open it.

"Come on, you piece of shit," Mike growled under his breath, slamming his shoulder against the door again with a frustrated grunt. His breath came out in harsh puffs, fogging in the cold air.

You stood a few feet behind, your eyes flickered nervously around. Every distant creak or scrape set your nerves on edge. You couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching, lurking just beyond the reach of your flashlight.

A faint voice echoed from down the hallway. "Help... please... help me." It was Jessica's voice. Your heart skipped a beat, confusion and fear swirling inside you. Jessica? You thought she was dead.

"Mike, did you hear that?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, already taking a few hesitant steps toward the source of the sound.

Mike's eyes narrowed as he tried to focus on the task at hand. "What? No. I didn't- wait, what did you hear?" He glanced over his shoulder, but you were already moving down the hallway, drawn toward the voice that called out again, more desperate this time.

"Help me, please!" Jessica's voice cracked with pain, and your mind raced. You moved quicker, following the sound into a side room, your flashlight shaking in your trembling hand.

It couldn't be real. It wasn't possible. But the voice was so familiar, so desperate, that you couldn't stop yourself from moving toward it. Your legs seemed to act on their own, driven by a faint hope that somehow, Jessica had survived.

The voice came again, more desperate this time. "Help... please..."

Your heartbeat thundered in your ears as you moved cautiously into the room. The floor was littered with debris, broken furniture, shards of glass, and piles of crumbling wood. The walls were covered in mold, and the air smelled of damp rot.

"Jessica?" you whispered, your voice shaking slightly as you scanned the room. "Jess... where are you?"

The voice, once a call for help, turned into a twisted, distorted mimicry of Jessica's scream.

A figure dropped down from a broken window above. The Wendigo landed with a sickening thud, its bones pressing grotesquely against its pale skin.

The remnants of torn and dirty clothes still clung to its body, a reminder of the human it once was. Its face, a twisted mess of teeth and sinew, sniffed the air, its milky-white eyes darting around the room, searching for movement.

They're blind, they only see those who move.

The creature's head snapped to the left, its limbs twitching unnervingly as it started to replicate Jessica's voice again. "Help me. help..."

The mimicry was perfect, the voice identical to Jessica's, but there was something horribly wrong with the way it was spoken now that you heard it up close. It was hollow, empty, as though it was toying with the memory of the girl you had once known.

You didn't dare to move.

You didn't even breathe.

It was close now, inches from you, its breath hot and rancid against your skin. You could hear the crackle of its joints, the faint click of its jaws as they opened and closed, tasting the air.

Just when you thought the creature would tear you apart, the deafening blast of a shotgun shattered the tense silence. The Wendigo's body jerked violently as the shotgun's impact threw it against the wall with bone-shattering force. The creature let out a shriek, the noise echoing through the room.

"Don't you fucking dare touch him!" Mike's voice rang out, fierce and raw with emotion. He stood in the doorway, shotgun still smoking in his hands, eyes blazing with fury.

He was at your side instantly, his hand grabbing yours and he yanked you out of the room with a sense of urgency. "Run!" he commanded, and together, you bolted down the hallway, your heart pounding in your chest.

You could hear the Wendigos now, their guttural snarls and skittering movements echoing through the corridors.

"I swear, if you ever do something that stupid again, I'll-" Mike began, his voice tight with fear, but before he could finish, another Wendigo screech from behind you.

It was gaining on you both, its skeletal form moving unnervingly fast as it closed the distance. It leaped at Mike, its claws outstretched, aiming to tear him apart.

"Mike!" you screamed as the creature tackled him. Mike grunted as he used the weapon as a makeshift shield, blocking the Wendigo's swipes as they slashed toward his face. The Wendigo screeched, its jagged teeth gnashing together as it tried to claw its way through the weapon. Mike grunted, his muscles straining as he shoved the creature back, the shotgun rattling in his hands.

Its claws raked against the shotgun as it was knocked out of his hands in the process. The weapon skidded across the floor, out of reach, as the creature lunged at Mike again, pinning him to the ground.

For a terrifying moment, you saw the Wendigo's claws hovering inches above Mike's throat, its grotesque mouth open wide as it prepared to strike. Without thinking, you grabbed the machete that had fallen from Mike's belt and charged forward, your heart racing as you swung the blade with all your strength.

The machete barely cut through the thick skin of the Wendigo's head, but it stopped moving. The creature collapsed on top of Mike, its lifeless body twitching.

Mike let out a breathless grunt, shoving the body off him with a groan, his chest heaving from the effort as he turned to look at you.

Mike's eyes were wide, his face a mixture of shock and gratitude. He ran a hand through his sweat-soaked hair.

"Holy shit," Mike breathed. "You saved my ass." His voice was thick with emotion, his usual cocky smirk absent as he stared at you in awe.

Mike's gaze softened, his lips parting as a slow, proud grin spread across his face. The adrenaline still pumped through his veins. You had saved him. You had fought for him. And now, as he lay there on the ground, bruised and battered, he couldn't help but feel a surge of possessiveness and admiration.

How did I get so lucky?

Mike's thoughts raced as his eyes traced over your form, taking in the way you stood, strong and capable and in that moment, with you standing over him, your chest rising and falling with exertion, sweat glistening on your skin, he wanted nothing more than to pull you down to him, to feel you against him. He imagined pulling you close, his hands wandering, his lips finding yours, desperate and hungry.

"You're incredible, man" Mike said, his voice softer now, more intimate. "I mean... I always knew you were tough, but that-"

He was cut short when the sound of another window breaking snapped him back to reality.

Another Wendigo burst through it, moving with a terrifying speed. Its claws were outstretched, eyes wide and blind, as it lunged directly for you. The machete slipped from your grasp, clattering uselessly to the ground as the creature slammed into you, knocking you off your feet.

You hit the floor hard, the impact knocking the wind from your lungs. The Wendigo's claws raked across your side, leaving a fiery slash that tore through your flesh. You cried out, clutching your side as blood soaked through your shirt.

"NO!" Mike screamed, his voice raw with terror as he scrambled for the shotgun. The Wendigo grabbed you by the leg, its claws sinking into your skin as it began to drag you toward the window.

You thrashed against the creature's grip, panic flooding your senses. The pain from your wounds made it hard to focus. The Wendigo's strength was overwhelming, its bony fingers tightening around your leg as it pulled you closer to the jagged glass of the broken window. The debris on the floor slashing your skin in the process.

Mike was on his feet in an instant, the shotgun in his hands as he sprinted toward you, firing wildly at the wendigo. He kept shooting, missing a few times, the desperation clear in his voice as he cursed under his breath.

Your vision blurred from the pain, your limbs heavy and weak as you tried to fight back.

"Get off him!" Mike roared, his voice full of desperation as he fired again, this time hitting the creature square in the chest. The impact sent the Wendigo stumbling backward, its grip on you loosening just enough for Mike to reach you.

With a grunt of effort, Mike grabbed your arm, yanking you back to your feet and into the room. You collapsed onto the floor, your body trembling from the pain and adrenaline while Mike closed the door.

He was at your side in an instant, his hands hovering over your wounds, his face pale with fear.

They were deep. Three long, jagged cuts across your back, blood pooling beneath you.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Mike cursed under his breath. His hands were shaking as he pressed them against the gashes in your side, trying to stem the bleeding, but there was so much blood.

The pain was unbearable, but seeing Mike like this hurt even more.

"Jesus, this is bad. God, I'm such an idiot." he muttered, his voice trembling.

You groaned in pain, the agony in your side intensifying with each passing second.

"Mike..." you croaked, trying to get his attention, but he wasn't listening. His hands were still pressing desperately against your wounds, blood staining his fingers as he kept cursing under his breath.

"This is my fault. I should've-fuck, I'm so fucking stupid. Why did I let you come here? Why didn't I-"

"Mike, stop..." you whispered, your voice weak from the pain.

But he wouldn't stop. He was spiraling, the guilt consuming him as he rocked back on his heels, his eyes glassy with unshed tears.

"We need to get out of here," Mike muttered to himself, his voice strained with desperation. He looked down at your injured form, his gaze flicking between your pale face and the blood soaking through your clothes.

The Wendigos were still out there and you were in no condition to run. Mike's mind raced as he tried to think of anything, anywhere, that might offer some kind of safety. His eyes darted toward the hallway as he recalled the old map he had found earlier, remembering the position of the nursery.

"There might be something there," he mumbled, more to himself than to you.

He leaned down and scooped you into his arms, cradling you as if you weighed nothing. You winced at the sudden movement, the pain in your side flaring up, but Mike's grip was steady, firm, holding you as if he was afraid to let go. He held you close, bridal style, your body pressed against his warm and sturdy chest as he began to move.

"I've got you" he muttered, his voice barely audible over the sound of your labored breathing.

His heart pounded in his chest as he carried you down the darkened hallways, the dim light of the flashlight casting long, eerie shadows across the walls. Every creak of the floorboards, every distant sound seemed like a threat, and Mike's grip on you tightened with each step. He refused to let you go.

"Just hold on," Mike said through gritted teeth, his eyes darting around the narrow hallways as he moved cautiously.

Your head rested against his chest, and you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It was pounding hard, faster than usual, fueled by adrenaline and fear. The pain in your side had dulled to a throbbing ache, and you couldn't help but notice how tense Mike's body was, every muscle coiled like a spring ready to snap.

"Mike" you managed to rasp out, the pain making your voice hoarse. "You're... freaking out."

"I'm not freaking out," he snapped, but the slight tremor in his voice betrayed him. He swallowed hard, his gaze flicking back to the path ahead, "I just... I need to get you fixed up. I need to-"

"Mike" You reached up, your hand weakly brushing against his chest, trying to calm him. "I'm not dying."

He didn't respond immediately, and when he did, his voice was low and shaky. "You don't know that."

You tried to force a smile, though it hurt to do so. "I've had worse."

"Yeah? When was the last time you were clawed by a fucking monster?" His eyes darted to yours, his fear masked by frustration. "You're bleeding all over the place, and it's my fault.

"It's not your fault," you said softly, trying to catch his gaze. "I chose to come with you"

"And I shouldn't have let you," Mike muttered, more to himself than to you. "I should've made you stay behind."

"You know I wouldn't have stayed behind," you replied, a weak smile tugging at your lips. "You can't get rid of me that easily."

His jaw clenched, and he didn't respond, his eyes fixed forward as he continued down the hallway, his arms never loosening their hold on you.

You didn't know how bad the injury was, but the blood that soaked through your clothes was enough to tell you it wasn't good.

You felt the world spinning slightly as he moved, your vision blurring at the edges. It was getting harder to stay awake, harder to keep focused on anything but the searing pain in your side. The sounds of the sanatorium echoed around you. All you could hear was the frantic beat of Mike's heart against your chest.

Your eyelids felt impossibly heavy. "Mike..." you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He snapped his head down to look at you, eyes wide and desperate. "Don't. Don't you dare close your eyes," he growled, his voice rough with panic. His arms tightened around you, almost painfully so, as he quickened his pace. "Stay with me, damn it. Stay awake. You hear me? You're not going anywhere."

But it was so hard to focus. The exhaustion was pulling you under like a heavy tide, dragging you down into the dark. Your eyelids fluttered, and you heard Mike curse again, his breath hitching. "Hey! No, no, no. Look at me. Look at me!" His voice was sharper now, laced with fear. "Stay awake. We're almost there. I swear, we're almost there."

The strain in his voice pulled you back, just for a moment, and you forced your eyes to open a little wider. His face was set in a scowl, but his eyes were wild, desperate.

Mike finally reached the nursery. It was a small, decrepit room, the paint on the walls peeling, and the furniture broken and scattered.

Mike set you down on one of the dirty beds as gently as he could, his hands trembling slightly as he pulled away. You winced again, the movement sending another sharp wave of pain through your body, but you forced yourself to stay quiet.

He hurried to the other side of the room, his eyes scanning the shelves and cabinets for anything that might help. He found an old, dusty first aid kit, half-hidden beneath a pile of debris.

Mike knelt beside you, his hands still shaking as he opened the kit. Inside were a few old bandages, a small bottle of alcohol and a torn-up sheet that he could use as makeshift bandages. He tore the fabric with his teeth.

It wasn't much, but it was all he had.

The silence between the two of you was heavy as he peeled off your shirt. Mike's hands hovered over your wounds, his face twisted in concentration at the deep gashes torn into your side.

He poured the alcohol onto the wounds, the stinging sensation making you clench your teeth to keep from crying out. He was doing his best to be gentle, but the pain was still excruciating.

"Shit... sorry... I'm sorry," Mike kept repeating under his breath, his eyes flicking between the injuries and your face. He looked as though he was about to break, his guilt consuming him.

"If you wanted to get my shirt off, all you had to do was ask." You said, your voice soft despite the pain radiating through your side.

He didn't smile, didn't give you that sarcastic comeback you had been hoping for. His jaw was still set, his lips pressed into a thin line as he focused on wrapping the gauze around your waist.

"Don't joke about this," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "You're bleeding everywhere, and I-"

"I'm serious!" you interrupted, forcing a grin through the pain. "If you wanted to play the hero, you could've just asked. You didn't have to engage in a whole monster attack just to impress me."

He refused to look you in the eye, his jaw clenched as he muttered something under his breath, too quiet for you to make out.

You saw the fear and guilt etched into his face. He was scared. More scared than you'd ever seen him before. His focus was singular, driven by the overwhelming need to fix the damage, to keep you alive.

The usual cocky, confident air that surrounded Mike was gone, replaced by a quiet panic that seemed to consume him.

You knew you had to say something. Mike was drowning in guilt, and if you didn't pull him out of it, he might never forgive himself.

Time to try again.

"Come on, Mike," you said, your tone playful despite the situation. "You're not enjoying the fact that I'm shirtless in front of you? I thought this was, like, your dream scenario. You, me, a creepy sanatorium, and a lot of body contact."

You were expecting at least a flicker of amusement, a quirk of the lips, anything that showed he was still the Mike you knew. But there was nothing. His silence only made the fear gnaw at you more.

Your hand reached out to gently touch his arm. "Mike, I'm serious. You saved me. You're the reason I'm still here, okay?"

His shoulders tensed under your touch, and he finally looked up at you, his expression conflicted. You could see the guilt still etched into his features, the self-loathing that twisted his mouth into a grimace.

"But you still got hurt," Mike snapped, his voice rising slightly with the weight of his emotions. His hands clenched into fists, the bandage half-finished as he pulled away, unable to look at you. "I wasn't fast enough. I should've... I should've done more."

"Done more?" You raised an eyebrow, trying to inject a little more lightness into your voice. "What were you supposed to do, Mike? Punch the Wendigo in the face? Because I'd like to see that."

For a brief moment, you thought you saw the ghost of a smile tug at the corner of his lips, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

"Hey," you said softly, reaching out again to touch his arm, this time gripping it a little tighter. "Look at me."

He hesitated, his jaw tightening, but after a moment, he turned his head toward you, his eyes meeting yours.

"I'm still here," you said quietly, your voice filled with as much reassurance as you could muster. "Thanks to you."

Mike's eyes flickered with something, some internal struggle playing out behind them.

"For a guy who spends half his time flexing and trying to show off his heroics," you began, leaning back slightly on the bed, wincing a little as the pain in your side flared up. "You're really bad at taking credit when you actually save someone."

That got a reaction. Mike's brows furrowed slightly, and he glanced at you, confusion mixed with frustration.

"I'm just saying," you continued, pretending to be casual as you gestured with your hand, the blood on it had now dried up. "You've got the whole 'tough guy' thing down, but when you actually do something heroic, like, I don't know, saving my life, you act like it wasn't enough."

Mike's frown deepened, but this time there was a spark of something familiar in his eyes, something like the Mike you knew.

"Not everything is a joke, okay?" Mike muttered, though there was a hint of exasperation in his voice now.

You grinned. "I know it's not a joke, Mike. I'm just trying to remind you that you're not a screw-up. I know you're used to making dumb decisions, but this wasn't one of them."

For a brief moment, Mike looked like he was going to argue, but then he let out a quiet, exasperated huff. His lips twitching in a way that told you he was fighting back a smirk.

"There he is," you teased lightly, your grin widening. "I knew you were still in there somewhere."

Mike's shoulders relaxed slightly, and for the first time since the attack, his expression softened. He shook his head, finally finishing the bandage on your side. The corner of his lips tugged upward as he tried to suppress a smile, a trace of his usual cocky confidence returning.

"You're an idiot," Mike muttered, but there was a warmth in his voice that hadn't been there before. He met your eyes again, the weight of the guilt starting to lift.

"I had to learn from the best," you shot back playfully. "You're pretty good at being an idiot yourself."

Mike chuckled softly, a sound that sent warmth through your chest despite the pain. "Yeah, well... guess I can't argue with that."

You leaned back against the pillow, the tension in the room finally easing. Mike's usual sarcastic demeanor was starting to slip back into place.

"I never really thought I'd spend a night in a creepy-ass sanatorium being patched up by a guy who probably spent his teenage years trying to impress girls with bad one-liners." You said, trying to keep the conversation going.

Mike snorted, shaking his head. "First of all, my one-liners were legendary. They even had you blushing when I dropped them on you. Second, I'm pretty sure I'm saving your life right now, so maybe a little more appreciation, huh?"

"Oh, believe me, I appreciate it," you replied with a grin. "But you have to admit, this is pretty far from a normal night out."

"Yeah, well, normal's overrated," Mike said, his tone lighter now. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, his eyes lingering on the bandage he had just finished tying around your waist. "But... seriously. I'm glad you're okay."

That fear hadn't fully left him yet.

"I'm okay because of you." you said, your voice softer now, more serious. You sat on the bed, looking up at him and wrapping your arms around his neck.

Your lips were sealed tight so you wouldn’t produce any sound of the pain still lingering.

Mike met your gaze again, his expression conflicted, torn between the guilt that still lingered and the relief that you were alive. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words seemed to catch in his throat. Instead, he just stared at you, his eyes dark with emotion.

Without warning, he leaned down, his hands gripping your face with a force that nearly made you gasp. His lips crashed into yours with a desperation that took you completely by surprise. The kiss was rough, almost violent in its intensity, his breath was hot and ragged, each exhale trembling with the intensity of the emotions he was trying to keep in check.

His tongue pushed past your lips with an almost feral hunger. The roughness of his tongue mirrored the intensity of his kiss, his movements sharp and demanding, as if he couldn't get close enough to you, couldn't feel enough of you. His tongue explored your mouth, not gently, but with a wild fervor that made your heart race and your body tremble under him.

You responded instinctively, your arms tightening around the back of his neck, pulling him closer, your body aching yet craving the connection he was giving you. His weight pressed down on you more as the kiss deepened.

His breath grew hotter, more frantic. His fingers tightened on your skin, almost painful, like he was terrified to let go, his tongue still working against yours, desperate to drown out any space between you. You could feel his desperation in every frantic breath, his rough kisses stealing away any sense of time as he devoured you.

His hands slipping from your face to tangle in your hair, pulling you closer, needing more.

Needing you.

You could feel the heat of his breath as he pulled back only for a fraction of a second before diving back in, his lips pressing into yours with renewed force.

Your lungs burned as the kiss deepened further, but you didn't care. All you could focus on was him. On the raw, unfiltered emotion in every press of his lips, every tremor of his hands. Mike's hands roamed your body, careful to avoid your injury, but firm enough to hold you in place. His breath was hot against your skin as he kissed you with a kind of hunger that sent shivers down your spine.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, both of you gasping for breath. His eyes were dark, clouded with emotion, his lips slightly swollen from the intensity of the kiss. His hands still cradled your face, thumbs brushing softly against your skin as though trying to calm himself after the storm he had unleashed.

His breath was shaky, his body trembling slightly as he looked at you with a mixture of relief. "I promise. I won't let anything happen to you." he whispered, his voice hoarse.

No matter what would happen next, you had Mike. And Mike had you.

And that was enough.

If you liked this story please leave a comment, I love reading them <3. Next week I think I’m gonna post a Mike Munroe jealous fic with smut! Hope you’ll like it ♡

[demonpiratehuntress]

recently read your baby!name x op characters and i was thinking what abt name x baby!op characters-

they somehow turned into babies for 24 hrs (like in your fic)

just randomly thought of this while scrolling thru baby op characters on pinterest lmao

anyways have a great day/ night~~

love this idea!! I just wanted to do baby (name) first since i've seen a few baby OP characters but im more than happy to do it!

i finally got my laptop back, but im actually so upset it took so long to be fixed, and that i couldn't get all your requests out sooner! im so sorry this took ages, and to everyone else who requested before i closed requests - yours will be out soon enough! once again, so so sorry everyone :(

taglist - @kabloswrld

baby OP Men! (Straw Hats, Law, Ace, Kaku)

featuring - Zoro x F!Reader, Ace x F!Reader, Law x F!Reader, Usopp x F!Reader, Luffy x F!Reader, Kaku x F!Reader, Sanji x F!Reader

summary - the OP men get turned into babies for 24 hours and naturally, you're the babysitter.

warnings - none except that i haven't watched far enough to know what Law and Ace were like as kids so them and Kaku will just be wild guesses. and there is no longer yellow font so i will just be making Law's colour blue.

ZORO

Waking up to the sounds of things breaking and crashing against other things wasn't uncommon on the Sunny. It has been something you'd all become accustomed to on the Merry, which just carried over to the Sunny. More often than not, the source was Zoro and Sanji, so you just rolled over and went back to bed.

Until the cry of an infant woke you right back up.

You looked down at yourself, sighing in relief when you realised it wasn't you this time. However, if not you then who?

You got your answer when you walked into the kitchen and spotted a green-haired baby fussing and throwing pots at a scowling blonde cook.

"Devil child!" Sanji yelled, earning him another pot to the face.

You laughed at the sight, and both of them turned to look at you. Sanji breathed a sigh of relief, while baby Zoro crawled across the countertop to get to you.

"What happened to him?" You asked the cook as you lifted the moody infant up into your arms, where he relaxed and cooed happily.

"That idiot got too cocky and tried to take on a devil fruit user without knowing what the devil fruit actually was," Sanji explained, throwing another hateful glare at the baby swordsman in your arms. "Now he's stuck like this for a whole day."

You volunteered to care for him, something that no one else seemed willing or able to do. You supposed it was fitting, since Zoro threw a tantrum every time he was with someone who wasn't you. It was funny really, how he would scream and throw things when you set him down or handed him to someone else and then immediately fall silent when you picked him up again. Zoro was not a clingy adult, but he was certainly a very clingy baby.

But you didn't mind.

He was calmest when you sat and watched the ocean with him perched on your lap, bouncing a little on your thighs as he tried to see over the railing. You laughed and lifted him up, setting the green-haired infant on your shoulders.

"That better, baby?"

He cooed and clapped his tiny hands, indicating he was much more satisfied now. Then his fingers found your hair, and be busied himself pulling and playing with it as you chuckled and let him be. His attention span was short, but even shorter now that he was barely a year old.

"Not too hard now," you reminded him, laughing when he just pulled harder. "Even as a baby you're a bully." That only earned you a whine and a harder tug on your strands, but you only laughed more because it didn't really hurt.

He ended up falling asleep on your chest that night, small hand fisting your shirt. You were humming and singing softly to get him to sleep, so it was a bit of a relief when you saw his eyes closed.

In the morning, he hovered over you with a teasing smirk on his face.

"So I'm a bully huh?"

ACE

After your encounter with the de-aging devil fruit user, you would think Ace would have been more inclined to avoiding him. But no, your boyfriend was super confident that he could take this guy on and not get hit with the de-aging beam, which is why you were now back on the Moby Dick with a very pouty infant Ace on your lap. He only wore a diaper, and had thrown a tantrum when you tried to put something else on. The crew was laughing and teasing him, which only made him poutier.

And also shoot little balls of fire at their shoes. He looked at you innocently, but you knew he did it on purpose.

Ace is just as naughty as you would think he'd be as a baby. If you lose sight of him for one second, he's gone and you're running around panicking and trying to find this troublemaker, which is much harder now that he's so small. You end up finding him under a table or crawling towards any set of stairs on the ship. And he'll giggle and smile innocently, instantly earning your forgiveness.

"You're a handful, you know that?" You huff as you pick him up right before he tumbles down some steps. "Stop trying to hurt yourself!"

Ace just cooed and reached for your face, patting your cheek affectionately before nuzzling his face against it. He becomes so clingy when you try to do work while babysitting him, always pulling your hair or squeezing your nose hard when you paid more attention to a chore than him.

"Ace! I'm trying to work, I'll play with you just now."

Ace babbles nonsense and starts to cry, making you sigh as you turn your attention back to him. Then he immediately stops crying and is happily giving you sloppy kisses all over your face, his mood changing in that split second.

You don't get any work done.

Ace also has a tendency to disappear when you set him down for one second, only to reappear by a screaming crewmate who's trying to put out a fire on their pants. The little 2nd division commander would howl with laughter and fall onto his back, before pouting when he realises he can't get up and then cries for you. Little Ace is a menace.

"You need to go sleep!" You sighed in exasperation as you rocked Ace back and forth gently, later that evening in your room. "Please?"

Ace just giggled and sucked in his tiny fingers, a very blatant 'no'. You sighed and sat on the bed, setting him on your lap. Trying to bounce him didn't work because he just got excited and more energetic. Then you finally remembered the one time he never fails to sleep, and you were almost mad at him for making you so tired and worn out that you'd forgotten.

You got him the softest food you can find in the kitchen, and watch in amusement as he falls face-first onto the bed next to the bowl. You quickly turn him over, laughing softly as you tucked him in.

LAW

Law doesn't make mistakes often, but when he does they have extreme consequences. Like now, when you'd warned him about something but he overlooked it, claiming it wasn't important. Which ended up with him sitting on your lap, looking at you with big, innocent eyes - an infant.

You weren't sure what to do with this tiny version of your pale boyfriend. So for a while you just sat there and kind of...stared at each other. He was looking into your soul - you were sure of it, because no baby has a look that intense.

"So..." You started, "What do you want to do?"

Blank stare. That's all you got. Law was not so different as a baby, he was extremely quiet and reserved, he didn't move much and he just stared. It was almost like talking to a baby doll.

"Right, um...are you hungry?" You tried again.

He blinked. Then he crawled off your lap, attempting to jump off the bed but being caught by you since he would very obviously hurt himself. He tried to glare, but he was so small and cute it became a very adorable pout.

"You're tiny remember!" You groaned. "I know you don't like asking for help but come on, you're going to hurt yourself."

He rolled his eyes.

"HEY!"

Then he giggled, something you didn't expect. Your jaw dropped, eyes going wide as he flat out giggled at your response to his little display of attitude. He was so cute giggling that you didn't want him to stop, but once he realised you were grinning at him he immediately went quiet and pouted again.

"You're impossible."

Another giggle, and you side-eyed him. He only giggled more before pointing to the bookshelf in his room. You sighed and took him over to it, letting him reach for whatever book he seemingly wanted you to read to him. Of course, it was a medical book.

You laid him against your chest as you leaned back against the headboard, opening the book and going to its contents section to decide which section to read to him. But he grew impatient, and reached out to grab a tiny fistful of pages and turn them over.

"Alright then."

As you began to read, Law listened intently and focused on the picutres, his eyes wide with interest. You smiled softly at the sight, marvelling at how cute he was when he was curious at this size. But he was still a baby, so after a few minutes of reading his eyes started to droop and he turned his body a little so he could grasp your shirt in his small fist. And then he was out, and you smiled and kisses the top of his head as you set the book aside and cuddled him.

Baby Law was so sweet and cute, even if his attitude was just like adult Law's.

KAKU

"And what have we learned?"

Of course, you couldn't expect a response from the man you were asking that question. That would be because he was now less than a year old, laying flat on his back across your legs and gazing up at you with big, innocent eyes. He just cooed softly and kicked his small legs lazily, reaching for you.

You sighed. The idiot had gone head-first into a fight he didn't properly think through. It was his most reckless move yet, and now he was paying the price as a baby. Simply because Jabra had pissed him off.

Kaku was a relatively calm and quiet baby. He didn't fuss much, and he wasn't too noisy. Adorably, he was also a shy and easily flustered little infant. But one thing he did want was your attention, and he wanted it the whole day.

So you carried him around the whole day, much like he'd done when you'd been babified. You rarely left him alone, and if you did it was only for bathroom breaks or like five seconds. You were afraid of leaving him around alone, because the other CP9 members could be mean and careless and some of them would definitely be rough with and bully him.

You had to admit, his little long nose was the cutest thing ever, apart from when he accidentally bumped it against you and then giggled. He was so sweet, rubbing the spot he bumped with his small hand and then giving you a sloppy kiss.

Baby Kaku is also very playful. Once he gets comfortable in his state. He tries to make funny noises with his long nose and then erupts into the cutest baby laughter right after. He will also curiously pull on his nose, only to have it wobble like a springboard when he's done, causing more giggles.

"Come onnnnn it'll be good!"

Unfortunately, he was very fussy with his food. You were trying to feed him some mashed potatoes, because that was the only appropriate thing you could find, but he just stared at you like 'really?' and kept his little mouth closed. After that, you were forced to go out and buy baby food.

Like Law, baby Kaku wants to be read to. But he won't be satisfied with the usual infant storytime books, because even as a baby he is much smarter than that. He prefers something historical, which may be boring for you but absolutely thrills him. He gets excited and bounces on your lap, tapping the book with his small hands while you're struggling to keep your eyes open.

When he's finally ready to sleep, he tries to fight it because he likes having you baby him like this. But eventually he drifts off when placed on your chest, because you're so warm and comfortable it lulls him into slumber.

When he wakes up an adult, he looks sheepish.

"We learned not to rush into a fight recklessly."

LUFFY

If you thought Luffy was a menace as a teenager, you were really in for it when he got turned into an infant by the same devil fruit user who'd done it to you. Of course, Luffy being Luffy, he forgot about that and charged straight into the fight without even considering your plan. And that's what now led to you having to carry a very fussy, very tiny Monkey D. Luffy back to the Thousand Sunny.

As expected, he is an active infant.

"Luffy no!"

But not only is he baby Luffy, he is baby Luffy with stretchy abilities. As seen now when he giggles loudly and grabs the mast, before propelling himself halfway across the ship. If Robin hadn't been around to catch him using her own devil fruit ability, you're pretty sure you'd be facing a sobbing, snotty-nosed little captain.

You have to chase this baby around the ship to actually change him or do any of the basic baby care things. He is so quick to crawl away when it comes to diaper-changing, but he is even quicker to crawl back with the promise of food, as usual. You cannot take your eyes off him though, because if you do for even one second he's gone and a ship-wide hunt for the naughty infant has to be conducted.

Infant Luffy is VERY good at hide and seek.

"Now where could Luffy be?" You say out loud as you walk around the ship, amused when a little giggle follows your words. "Maybe he's in the kitchen." Another giggle. "Or maybe he's right...here!"

And when you uncover his hiding spot and grab him, he squeals and tries to wriggle out of yours arms. But ultimately starts giggling and laughing uncontrollably as you tickle his little sides and smother his tiny face in kisses. He loves having all your attention on him, and will not hesitate to trip someone from the ground or reach around you to pull on their hair if they take your attention away from him for even a second. Baby Luffy is a lot clingier than grown up Luffy.

But if you sit him down in the aquarium or in the crow's nest and let him watch the fish or the water while you tell him stories about Shanks that he's told you before, he'll calm down a little bit and relax. His eyes will go big and he'll stare at you in awe as you tell him all of these stories, even if he doesn't really understand. And when you make big gestures to try and show him, he cutely tries to mimic you and make those same gestures with his little arms. Which always has you cooing at him and him giggling at how cute you found it.

He was so hyper that you almost couldn't put him to sleep, and you didn't think he would ever fall asleep. But after a while of you - once again - chasing him around the ship, you finally caught him and managed (somehow) to rock him to sleep.

When he woke up a grown boy, there really wasn't much difference in his behaviour, even after you told him about his infant self.

SANJI

Honestly you don't even know how it happened. One minute you're engaging the enemy, the next your old friend with the de-aging devil fruit appears and this time targets your boyfriend. Which is why now you're sitting in the kitchen with a pouty baby cook on the table, the two of you just staring at each other.

When he realises he can't cook like this, the poor blonde bursts into tears, looking so upset it breaks your heart. You quickly pull him into your arms and cradle him, and he slowly calms down and looks up at you with his big, round eyes.

"There we go," you smiled at him, kissing his little cheek. "It's okay."

If you think Sanji is clingy as a grown up, his clinginess soars to new heights as a baby. He will absolutely not let go of you if you're holding him, not for any reason other than you needing the bathroom. He wants your attention on him for the full 24 hours, which of course is nothing new but still makes you laugh every time he gets pouty when you're not looking at him.

He's also a very sly baby. He uses his cuteness to his advantage to get Zoro in trouble, because every time he cries and points to Zoro, you glare at the swordsman or chuck something at him, much to Sanji's amusement.

"You're ugly and annoying even as a baby!" You heard Zoro shouting when you'd left them alone for one second to fetch some food for Sanji. "Stop looking at me like that!"

"ZORO!" You chided as you walked back into the room, coincidentally as soon as Sanji decided to start bawling to exaggerate the situation. He pointed at the green-haired swordsman as he cried, making you sigh and smack him upside his head. This caused Sanji to stop crying and giggle, earning a glare from Zoro.

"Why, you-!"

"Zoro, he's just a baby," you sighed, "He's going to annoy you."

"He annoys me regardless," the swordsman huffed, walking away. "Just keep that little demon away from me."

Sanji stuck his tiny tongue out at the bulky man's figure as he retreated, making you laugh and scoop the cook up into your arms. He immediately relaxed and cooed happily, playing with your shirt as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

Sanji is a fussy eater, which you kind of figured. He doesn't settle for just any soft food, he specifically likes pureed apple. So every time you have to feed him, you have to either feed him some you got from an island you had to stop at when you first found out about his preference, or you have to puree the apples yourself.

Changing Sanji's diaper is also easy, because he's very calm and he lets you do it without much fuss. You have no issues putting him to sleep, either, because once you've changed him for the last time at night, he's out like a light. And you smile and bring him to your bed to sleep, laying him in between your pillows.

When he wakes up, he's back to being a smug little mf because he woke up in your bed.

USOPP

Honestly you didn't even know what had happened while you had stayed on the ship to keep watch. The others all returned looking weary but otherwise okay, so you just assumed Usopp was too, and you didn't think to ask why Brook and Sanji looked so suspicious, passing something between them behind their backs. That is, of course, until you heard the unmistakable sound of an infant crying.

"What was that?" You looked at them, raising an eyebrow.

"What was what?" Sanji asked, laughing nervously.

The infant cried again, and you stalked over and pushed them aside to reveal your boyfriend...only smaller. Baby Usopp stared up at you with wide, terrified eyes, tears streaming down his adorably chubby cheeks.

"What the-How did this happen??"

You looked up, but everyone avoided your gaze and made excuses to leave. So you just sighed and picked the baby up, wiping his tears away and gently rocking him to calm him down. He did eventually, but the terror never left his eyes as he got hold of your shirt collar and never let go.

"Hey, hey," you cooed softly. "It's okay, I'm here."

When he calmed down, you realised he had been so scared that he'd messed himself, so you changed him. Poor Usopp was already so nervous and frightened as a grown up, that as a baby he was almost always shaking. But you put him at ease, and whenever he was in your arms he was calm, relaxed and very playful. He liked your hair, liked to play with it and also, apparently, eat it.

"Usopp no!" You laughed as you once again had to pull your hair out of his tiny mouth. His bottom lip trembled, and you quickly amended it by kissing his cheeks and giving him something else to play with.

He liked to tinker even as a baby. You gave him the safest things he could play with, and he would try to arrange it in a certain way that wasn't just a jumbled mess. You were very impressed when he managed to stack all the gold coins you'd given him to play with - under Nami's strict supervision, of course.

However, he was naughty when it came to being fed. It wasn't that he was a fussy eater, he just liked to play with his food. And he had incredible aim, so every bunch of food he threw landed on its intended target. Which was you. Sanji had tried to feed him, but the stress of wasted food got to him and you had to replace him before he yelled at poor baby Usopp.

Putting him to sleep is relatively easier than putting anyone else on this list to sleep. As soon as you noticed his eyes drooping while you told him a story - one of his own made-up adventures - you picked him up and placed him on his bed, and he was out.

When he woke up in the morning, all grown up, he groaned.

"That was the scariest experience of my life."

A/N: I'm so sorry if this seems rushed or isn't as good as you expected, it's been a busy few weeks and i'm so mentally exhausted but i really wanted to get this out for you! Again, requests that were in my inbox before i closed them will be posted as soon as possible! Please just be patient with me, 2024 is turning out to be a weird year for me.

[swanimagines]

Hola can i request a Morpheus x f!Reader fic where her son is running over all the palace because he doesn’t want to take a bath?

Sorry English is not my first language

A/N: Ahem ahem, excuse me... this may be the first time in a very long time I'm actually genuinely HAPPY with something I wrote?? If there's a writing deity or a saint, I will pray to them and hope for this kind of skill and motivation and inspiration and whatever hell I need to produce THIS kind of content in the future too, thanks bye!

"Aridus!" your voice echoed through the grand corridors as you chased after your son, who had decided today was not the day for a bath. He turned around slightly, his face scrunched up in anger.

“I don’t want to take a bath!” he declared for the hundredth time, before taking a turn to yet another maze of hallways. You let out a frustrated groan, even though you tried to keep it in.

“I know, sweetie, but after all that playing with Goldie, you’re all muddy, I can’t let you go to bed like that!” You stopped, as you took the turn to where he went. “Aridus, please just—”

“No! I don’t want to sleep either!” His voice echoed through the hallway, it was impossible to know which nook he took as a hiding place. “Daddy never sleeps either!”

It was true, the everlasting bickering with him. Why is daddy able to go around day and night, why can’t he stay up to play all night as well. But the thing was, Aridus was your offspring too, and you were originally from the Waking world — and you needed sleep, so Aridus needed sleep too. Your husband had told you that Aridus may need less sleep than a “regular” human as he grows up, but as a toddler he was just like regular children were. Getting tantrums out of being tired, while the tantrum is about not wanting to go to sleep. “I know sweetie, but he’s–”

“No!” he screamed, and you heard the patter of feet going further again.

You barely heard Morpheus coming to stand beside you, but you felt his presence and turned to look at him. “I can’t catch him. He’s persistent and knows how to tire me out.”

Morpheus's lips had a small hint of a smile. “He is much like you, then.”

You scoffed and crossed your arms. “Me? Are you sure? You’re the one who’s refusing to listen to any other opinions of change when you’ve already decided the ‘best’ way. I think he’s more like you than me.”

Morpheus smiled properly now, inclining his head forward. “True.”

A loud crash interrupted the sound of running, and you heard something rolling through the floor, followed by a soft thud and a whimper from Aridus. You walked forward with Morpheus following close behind, and discovered the source. Aridus had collided with one of the pedestals, which had sent a stack of dream scrolls all over the room. You moved to stand in front of him and brought your hands to your hips, sighing.

Suddenly your son, who had been so angry just a moment earlier, looked more remorseful as ever. “I… I didn’t mean to.”

Before you could answer, you felt Morpheus’s hand on your shoulder. “Allow me, my love.”

Aridus sat there frozen in place, looking at his father kneeling in front of him. Morpheus reached out, carefully tucking a curl of hair behind Aridus’s ear. “Do you know why we need to take baths, Aridus?”

Aridus’s shoulders slumped. “I know, father. Mother doesn’t want my bed to get dirty. But I don’t like to get wet.”

Morpheus shook his head. “It is not only because we get dirty. Every day, all living beings get dream dust on them. If there’s too much of it, it weighs us down. It affects our mood and eventually… it may make us fall asleep and never again wake up. Be stuck in nightmares forever, and not even I would be able to help.”

Aridus stared at his father, his mouth opening slightly before he whispered, “Stuck?”

Morpheus nodded. “Yes. Even the stars must cleanse themselves of the night sometimes.”

For a moment, Aridus stared at the floor, clearly trying to contemplate his options. But eventually, he looked up again and nodded. “Okay.”

You smiled slightly, ushering him towards the bathroom before you looked back at your husband, who was left cleaning the mess up.

—

Later, when you watched your son sleeping in his little bed from the doorway, you felt a slight gust of air as Morpheus appeared to your side again. You smiled at him and whispered, “You’re good at making up stories. I think he’ll be much more willing to take baths in the future.”

He shook his head, his eyes fixed on your son. “I merely spoke the truth.”

You frowned. “Really?”

He turned towards you slightly. “Yes. Well, maybe I dramatised it a little, but much of it was true. Even stars need to be born anew sometimes. They too resist, hang on, but ultimately they yield and give way to new stars. Just like our son did.”

You nodded and let yourself lean against him slightly. "I’ll admit, I was starting to lose hope there for a moment. I didn’t think anything could convince him to take a bath, let alone willingly. He certainly takes after both of us. I thought I'd never tire him out, but you…” you murmured and looked at him. “You have a way with him. Maybe I should let you handle all the tantrums from now on."

Morpheus pushed you away slightly, tracing his fingers against your bare arm. "I would handle them all, if you so wished," he whispered. "But I believe Aridus needs you as much as he needs me. You are his anchor to both worlds. Without you, he might wander too far in the night."

You smiled a little at that. Morpheus certainly knew his way through words, it was in his nature, in how he was created, sure, but you felt like he had learned a thing or two from love since he fell in love with you all those centuries ago.

You sighed, looking at your sleeping son. “He seems to like wandering. He has told me so many times he wants to be just like you, and I don’t know how to tell him that it isn’t possible.”

Morpheus was quiet for a moment, running his hand up and down your arm. “He must learn to walk in both worlds because when the time comes… Waking world may call out to him. In any case, balance is essential. And he must learn to control and thrive, whatever his place will end up being.”

You swallowed, remembering that once your son grows up, he may only be able to visit you at night. You’d watch him grow old year by year, and only get him back once he dies. Which will take centuries, if not even millennials with his Endless blood. And even then, he may choose the Land of the Dead if he has loved ones there. But Morpheus made it sound… like it was natural. Which it of course was, you reminded yourself. “You make it sound so simple. That it will be simple to accept it.”

"Simple, no. But necessary, yes." His hand stilled on your arm. "And you, my love, have always excelled at guiding him in ways I cannot."

You were quiet for a moment again. “I just don’t want him to grow up so fast.”

He was quiet for a moment too, taking in a deep breath. “I wish he did not grow so fast either. But moments like these, they will linger. Forever, if necessary. We need not fear losing him.”

You nodded, finally closing the door and following Morpheus towards the throne room. “I guess I should just remember he’s going to be a half-deity like you. And that hopefully he’s going to make the world a better place.”

Morpheus turned to look at you, taking your hands in his. “He will have both of us with him when he enters the Waking world, and be more than us. He will be a dream, but also a heartbeat. And that, my love, is his gift.”

You swallowed, but then closed your eyes and dropped your face towards the floor. “I know. As long as he has both of us in him, he’ll be alright.”

Morpheus cupped your cheek, tilting your head to look at him again. “He will thrive. He will flourish in ways we cannot yet even imagine.”

You nodded, glancing back towards Aridus’s room and then you turned back to Morpheus. “I love you.”

His smile appeared again, an expression only reserved for you before he kissed your forehead. “And I, you. Always.”

Requests are open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[teyvathandymenclub]

Good Morning

Story: You have just spent your first night together and the obvious nervousness comes in with a bang. Will he like me without makeup? I need to keep mints close to me to hide my morning dragon breath. Should I put on some mascara at least? 

Characters: Diluc, Alhaitham

TW: Beware! Fluff.

Diluc

You have promised yourself that you will wake up before him. And somehow you did. When you opened your eyes, the sun was still pretty low and the room was filled with Diluc´s deep calm breathing. Slowly raising your head you checked his chest. You have been sleeping on him the whole night so the possibility of you salivating on him was pretty high. 

It is fine. Thank god. You sigh with relief.

For a second you got stuck because you could not stop staring at him. He looks so peaceful, but authoritative at the same time. Diluc has this aura of confidence and stoicism that you have never seen in other men. He could have every woman in the Teyvat but he chose you. Your heart flutters. 

I do not know what I did to deserve you, but I will do everything to prove to you that I am worthy of you. 

With that, you stood up and tip-toed out of the bedroom.

"Are you trying to run away from me?" 

Diluc´s voice stopped you right when you were about to reach the doorknob. Heart in your chest started racing and all you could hear was your blood rushing through your veins.

"If I disappointed you somehow last night, you can tell me straight away."

"No!" You almost screamed too ashamed to look at him.

"Then where are you going? I was excited to wake up to you sleeping in my arms."

"Me too! I just need to… Use the toilet. If that is ok."

"Of Course, it is ok." Diluc chuckled with relief as he stood up. "I will show you the way."

"No! Umm… I will find it by myself."

"Y/N, what is going on?" He frowned. "Why you did not look at me once."

You wanted to protest even more, but before you were able to find new excuses, Diluc took your chin and raised your head so he could look you directly in the eyes.

After a short moment, you cracked under his gaze, just like last night.

"I did not want you to see me like this." You finally admit.

"Like what?" Diluc looked at you and scanned you from head to toe.

"No makeup, messy hair, puffy face…"

"Stop it, please." Diluc hushed you with a voice filled with amusement and disappointment at the same time.

"I am sorry." You whisper.

"For what? That I did not show you my affection the same way I feel it here?" He took your hand and placed it on the bare skin of his chest. "Can you forgive me for leaving room for so many doubts? My dear, I have traveled most of our world and I have never met someone like you. Do not ever doubt my affection for you. For any version of you. With messy hair, with whatever makeup you do not wear. I do not care. "

"But…"

You tried to protest, but he immediately stopped you with raised brows that said more than enough.

"With that settled, how did you sleep?" Diluc smiled as he hid you in his embrace.

Alhaitham

Last night was everything but what you have expected from a man who presented himself the way he did. Where did those passionate touches and kisses come from?

Never even in your wildest dreams, you dreamed about being smothered with so much affection. Even though you did not want to admit it, you felt addicted. Men are usually a source of disappointment in your life. How could you score an intelligent gentleman with ways that can make your toes curl from… Well, let's call it happiness.

It would be such a shame to scare him away with my morning state. I should freshen up a little. 

You debated with yourself a little before you took your chance. As you carefully moved away his hand wrapped around your waist and tried to stand up, Alhaitham deeply growled. His grip around your body tightened. Who would have thought that he would be into spooning so much?

"What is so funny?" He asked after you chuckled a little.

"Just wondering if I could be the big spoon now."

"No." Alhaitham murmured into your neck without hesitation.

"Can I at least go to the bathroom? Pretty please?"

"So you would let me here with nothing but your scent stuck to my skin?"

"Awwwww." You smiled. "But... Do you want me to pee here?"

"You are free to go wherever you want!" Alhaitham said while dramatically pushing you away from him. 

After you gave him your best fake sad stare you quickly left to deal with some important business in the bathroom. When you finally came back, Alhaitham was already sitting in the bed leaning against the headboard reading something.

"And I thought that I had bad bed hair." You laugh.

"You probably had. You have been gone for almost half an hour."

"You did not!" You audibly gasped before you jumped at him.

"Why… Oh god…" Alhaitham growled as he maneuvered you down from him. "...do you have so much energy this early in the morning? If I knew I would never invite you over."

"REALLY?!" You froze.

"Of Course not." He smiled sheepishly as he pinned you down to kiss you oh so sweetly.

[chronicdisasterwrites]

death is pretty but his eyes are prettier

pairing: gojo satoru x reader (gojo’s past arc)

genre + warnings: - blood, injuries, mentions of death, passing out and intestines spilling out of the body (it's a bit gory but nothing crazy), swearing, reader is shorter than satoru but other than that it's gender-neutral (i'm pretty sure), shoko smoking, protective satoru and suguru.

a bit angsty but definitely FLUFF !!

word count: 3,191 (yikes lmao)

authors note: okaaay, so i was inspired by taylor swift saying "you drew stars around my scars", and also i love slow burns and two idiots silently but obviously pining for each other; SO satoru and reader aren't dating here yet. but they very much do like each other.

also apologies in advance if i messed up any location descriptions :')

enjoy this chaos lol <3

I’m an idiot. 

The curse was dead. The special grade curse you were assigned to kill was dead and you were almost dead. 

As the dissipating remains of the curse mixed with the wind and faded away, you heaved as the blood from the gash across your stomach soaked your dark blue uniform and colored it an even darker shade. Taking a few steps towards the nearest wall, you lean against it, legs buckling and gasping for breath. The light-headedness was growing exponentially and you had to force your eyes to stay open and your legs to stay upright. Blinking rapidly and trying to regain focus, you press one hand to the gaping wound on your abdomen. Red bleeds through your fingers and you feel like you might just pass out. Or die. Or both. 

Feeling liquid drip down your chin, you lift your other hand to the right side of your cheek to assess the source of what you assumed had to be blood. Sure enough, your previously bloodless hand was now stained with sticky crimson. Slowly moving your finger on your cheek to figure out where the blood was coming from you felt a sharp pain when your hand made contact with what seemed to be a pretty large cut. 

Shit. That’s gonna leave a scar.

Your scythe was broken so you had no weapons to worry about carrying back to Jujutsu High. Sluggishly taking your phone out of your uniform pocket you pray to every force you know to let your phone be okay. The black cracked screen stares back at you and the reflection of your worn out, disappointed, and bloodied face is all you see.

Oh, you have got to be kidding me. 

Now the question is whether to go to a hospital and get questioned by non-sorcerers about the horrendous wounds covering your entire body or, to go to Shoko and get patched up and hopefully not get asked too many questions and look like an absolute idiot. 

Shoko will ask questions and she’ll obviously be concerned. If Shoko knows, Satoru and Suguru are bound to find out and they won’t be happy with the higher-ups about this… misjudgment.

So, the hospital sounds better. But the nearest hospital is further from my current location than jujutsu high. 

Your breathing is getting shallower and your head feels so light you feel like it’ll just fall off. Closing your eyes and taking the deepest breath you could take without feeling like your stomach will tear open from the searing pain, you decide.

Fuck it. Shoko it is.

Pushing yourself off the wall with one hand still clutched to your bleeding stomach you start moving towards Jujutsu High. You control your breathing and use every last bit of cursed energy you have left to staunch the bleeding and somewhat ease your pain. With that, you urge your legs to move as fast as physically possible without breaking down.

---

You don’t know how you made it without bleeding out in the middle of the road, but the gates of Jujutsu High have never looked prettier. But, the sight of the stairs was enough to make bile rise to your throat. Swallowing it down and heaving some more, you make your way up the neverending steps of your inevitable doom.

Upon reaching the final step, your legs give out and you fall, wounded cheek first onto the stoned pavement. The pain was like nothing you’ve ever felt before; shooting upwards to your neurons and all the way down your body, right to the tips of your fingers and toes. 

It feels so nice to lie down. No no, get the hell up and go to Shoko. Or all this damn walking would’ve been for absolutely nothing.

Hours was it? Or minutes? You’re not sure but you managed to get back up. After first turning from your side to your back and then bending one leg and then using one hand to help your body up and then finally sitting up. Then at a snail’s pace, managing to stand up on your two feet you start moving towards the morgue, where Shoko spends most of her time anyways. That was your best bet. And if she wasn’t there, well then death seemed like the next best option. 

Slugging your way to the morgue, one hand still clutched to your stomach, you aggressively slap your free hand on the doorknob and turn it with your full body weight on the door. The door swings open and unable to keep your balance, you fall again, right cheek hitting the cold floor for the second time that day. 

All you remember hearing before your eyes finally shut is the sound of a chair screeching on the floor followed by the sound of rapid footsteps and a string of unintelligible words you assumed belonged to Shoko.

---

Darkness. More darkness. Muted voices. Yelling. Some more darkness. Pain.

When you finally open your eyes, everything is a blur. You blink a few times and look around until your eyes find something to focus on. The white walls, the green curtains, and the smell of antiseptic chemicals all lead you to believe you are in the infirmary. Flexing your hands one, two, three times before slowly lifting your right hand up to gently caress your right cheek, you feel the soft cloth of a bandage taped to your skin. Bringing the same hand down to lay it flat upon the blanket covering your abdomen, you apply the slightest bit of pressure down until you feel a slight prick of pain. Lifting the blanket up you tilt your head down to check the situation. You’re wearing a flowy hospital gown and your stomach looks a bit bulky. Feeling around the wound site you realize there’s a bandage there too. Laying your hand back down by your side, you stare up at the ceiling, wondering how you were even alive.

The creaking of the door opening breaks you from your stupor. 

“That was fast. Thought you’d be out for longer,” comes the smooth voice, the smell of cigarettes and that familiar sandalwood sweet perfume you know only belongs to Shoko.

Turning your head to the side you watch her sit down on the chair next to you fiddling with an unlit cigarette and crossing her legs. Her bangs almost cover her left eye and you notice how tired she looks. She sighs and looks at you with a lazy smile, fingers still twirling the cigarette with ease, she asks, “How you feeling?”

You shift and push yourself up to lean your back against the headrest of the bed. With a loud exhale you look back at her with a half-assed smile, “I’m great actually. Good job, doc.” You give her a thumbs up and hope it’ll be enough to squash any more questions she might have.

With her smile still on her face, she looks down at the cigarette and hums, “You know, Gojo was about to unleash hell on the higher-ups for giving you that mission.”

Your smile is immediately replaced with a frown and you feel unbelievably small upon hearing this. With a scowl you ask, “I mean, the mission was a success, wasn’t it?" You shrug, "And I’m fine too so win-win.”

Finally, her smile fades as she stares straight at you; and you think this is the most serious you have ever seen Shoko look, “You could’ve died. That doesn’t seem like “fine” to me. For once I actually agree with Gojo. It wasn’t right of them to assign you on that mission, especially without warning.”

“I’m feeling unbelievably underestimated right now, Shoko,” your voice is small as you fiddle with the seams of the blanket covering the lower half of your body.

Shoko sighs and shakes her head, short hair swishing as she leans forward with her arms on her legs, “I’m not doubting your abilities. No one is doubting your skills. But your wounds were really bad, you know that as well as I do.”

It’s quiet for a bit before you speak again. You look at her downturned head as you reach out your hand to hold hers. Your voice is demure.

“I know. I’m sorry for worrying you, Shoko. But I promise I’m fine. And that’s all thanks to you.” You smile at her as she lifts her head enough to lock her eyes with yours. A smile she doesn’t return but her hand holds yours back and you know she believes you now.

“Yeah well try not to pass out with your intestines all over the floor next time, thanks.”

You laugh. “I promise. I hope you’re joking about the intestines though.”

Shoko huffs a short laugh and lets go of your hand. Bringing the cigarette to her mouth as she stands up she says, “Your cursed energy is the reason that’s a joke. It’s amazing you held out for that long. But don’t get too used to that luck.”

Bringing your hand back to your lap, you watch as she makes her way out and shuts the door. 

Immediately after leaving she pokes her head in again and says one thing before leaving again without waiting for your reply, “Please talk to Gojo and Geto. Go now actually.” 

You sigh and bring down one foot then the other. The light-headedness returns once you stand up but it’s manageable, so you look around for a change of clothes when you find a new uniform folded neatly on the side table next to your bed.

Changing into the new uniform, you make your way out to look for either Satoru or Suguru or if you’re lucky (more so unlucky) both of them.

---

Jujutsu High really is beautiful this time of the season. The cherry blossoms are in full bloom and the campus looks downright ethereal. You think while walking the halls how this place would feel if it were just an ordinary high school and not a place teaching kids how to wield weapons and slay curses. The classrooms would be filled with boisterous students and teachers talking in the courtyard. Canteens with flirting couples and students playing football outside. The gymnasium would hold basketball games with students wearing the school jersey and cheering for the school team. It would be different. It wouldn’t be Jujutsu High, you think.

“Well well, look who’s up and walking already,” the loud, smug voice you know only belongs to one white-haired, blue-eyed boy.

Stopping in your tracks you turn around and stand face to face with Satoru. You give him a sheepish smile and with the sweetest voice you can muster you say, “Hey there Satoru! I was just looking for you!”

Satoru scoffs and walks closer to you. 

"Drop the crap."

Oh shit.

Once close enough to touch you he waits for a few beats staring at your face, eyes locked with yours as he occasionally looks at the bandage on your cheek. He breathes your name.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he seethes.

You groan, exasperated but expecting this reaction. 

“I’m okay, Satoru. I don’t get why this is such a big deal honestly.”

You can see his eyes widen behind his sunglasses with pure rage as he scoffs yet again. His voice gets louder and his arms flail around trying to prove his point, 

“Oh, you don’t get why this is a big deal? Well for starters, you could have died. You’re a semi-first grade, why the hell would you even accept a job to kill a special grade curse?” 

“Okay, I didn’t know it was a special grade. And I killed it, didn’t I? Have some faith in me,” your tone matches his and you glower as you cross your hands across your chest.

He starts pacing back and forth, facepalming himself to oblivion as he goes on a rant,

“Oh my- that’s not the point! It’s not about having faith. You were all messed up and half dead and you could’ve been fully dead and we were almost about to kill those stupid old geezers but then Shoko stopped us and I swear if she didn’t we would’ve actually gone through with it. I mean seriously what the hell-“

You stomp forward mid-rant and grab him by the shoulders, forcing him to stop. Your voice is soft but steady like you’re comforting a child in distress.

“Satoru calm down. I’m okay. The curse is dead. It’s fine. Now please breathe.”

He stares at you through his sunglasses. His chest is heaving and fists are clenched by his sides, not trying to move at all even though he could easily shove you away and continue pacing and ranting.

He dips his head down and exhales deeply, shoulders slanted downwards and breathing slowing down. He moves forward as his arms encircle your body and his head rests on top of yours. Your nose is squished against his chest and you can smell his scent; a mix of sweets, laundry detergent, and his signature scent; the smell of dewdrops and what you assume would probably be some expensive brand of perfume. You relax against him as you breathe him in and your arms move to hug him back. Shifting your head to rest your cheek on his chest you hear his heart beat steadily. You close your eyes and get lost in the feeling of Satoru. 

Neither of you say anything, but say everything at the same time. All his thoughts poured into that one hug, and you silently hear them all as you hug him a bit tighter.

You can feel him gulp as his Adam's apple moves against your forehead. His voice is small and honest as he says, “I would kill them all. If you didn’t wake up, I wouldn’t hesitate to kill them all.”

You know he would, so it’s not really a confession. But it feels like a confession. Satoru would turn the world upside down for the people he loves. You know that too well. 

“I know,” your voice is quiet. You feel so safe in Satoru’s arms. You think it’s so embarrassing how safe you feel whenever you’re with him. You feel like a baby; guard down and vulnerable. You’re sure Satoru feels the same way. You’ve never once seen him keep his Infinity on when he’s with you. 

He hugs you tighter and you can feel his heart rate quicken. He takes a deep breath and exhales as he lets you go and looks at you. You tilt your head up and try to find those cerulean blues hidden behind the shade of his sunglasses. Lifting your hand up to push his glasses up to his head you finally look right into the swirling blues of his eyes. They’re like the ocean. Calm, but with an unmistakable power surging within them. Like the energy you feel in the water right before a wave is formed, the blues in his eyes seem to pulse and flow with power. But they’re also still and serene, and filled with so much emotion. His eyes hold so much more than just power. 

His hand comes up to your bandaged cheek and he slowly takes off one side of the tape and then another until the bandage flaps open. You suddenly feel smaller and even more vulnerable. You haven’t even seen your face with the scar yet (you’re positive there’s a scar). His eyes zone in on the cut as he traces the raised flesh lining the center of your cheek. As his finger runs down the scar, you envision just how large the cut really is; about 3 inches vertical. It didn’t hurt anymore. Shoko really is a fantastic sorcerer, you think. Not moving your eyes from Satoru’s even once, you see the whirlpool of emotions swirl around in those crystal blues. Anger, sadness, worry, relief, adoration, hope.

His jaw clenches as he furrows his brows ever so slightly, fingers moving across your scar with featherlight pressure. Moving his gaze to your eyes, he rests his entire palm against your wounded cheek. Adjusting his hand to hold the side of your face perfectly like two pieces of the same puzzle, his thumb lays on the scar with a gentleness you didn’t know Satoru had. 

It’s so quiet, you can hear your heart pounding in your chest. The occasional breeze and the mellow chirping of birds bring you back to the world, otherwise, you’re positive you’d forget all about the outside world and be content standing in the middle of the hall in Jujutsu High wrapped in Gojo Satoru’s arms. 

You and Satoru were friends. Of course, you loved him, but that love is no different from the love you have for Shoko and Suguru. They’re your home. You’re a family. You know they love you too. 

But right now, it feels different than all the other times Satoru has held you. Held your hand, held your face, hugged you, clumsily threw his lanky arms over your shoulders, ran his fingers through your hair, wiped the blood off your face, flicked you on the forehead, patted you on the head, messed up your hair, rested his head on top of yours. This particular instance feels different. More intimate, perhaps. 

Maybe because you really could’ve died. Your life was hanging by a thread and you don’t seem to understand that. You were so prepared to die, that such a close brush with death’s scythe didn’t affect you in the slightest. This job comes with a guarantee of death. Even though that is life in general; being a jujutsu sorcerer means your days are already numbered. Anytime you embark on a mission, your chances of dying are much higher than your chances of survival. So you always went out on the field with the thought of dying. Knowing you could die and leave everything and everyone behind. But this was the first time you felt you were one step through death’s door. 

You can feel Satoru’s breath on your face, and you think he might kiss you. You keep one hand on his back as you lift the other to hold his wrist near your jaw. As he leans forward you close your eyes bracing for the kiss to reach your lips. But it doesn’t reach the place you were expecting. Instead, the lightest kiss touches your forehead, almost chaste; as he lingers there for a moment and then moves back. 

By now, your heart is racing and you think you’re dreaming. Only when his hands leave you, do you open your eyes and realize this isn’t a dream. 

He exhales as he stands straight, with both hands by his side. Bringing his sunglasses back down, perched on the bridge of his nose, he gives you a small smile, “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

You try to mask your stunned expression with a smile and nod. 

As he turns to leave he says, “Suguru’s at the gymnasium, probably.”

You release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, “Alright.”

He walks away and you go in the other direction.

part 2